


A Year's Worth

by banglos (wonblue)



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Angst, Drama, Fluff, Greek god au, Jongup is Hermes, M/M, Romance, Yongguk is Hades, but less creepy, but with a twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-01-15 04:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 53,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12314067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonblue/pseuds/banglos
Summary: Bang Yongguk, Lord of the Underworld, hasn’t returned to the Surface in centuries. The first time he does, he finds a forest nymph caught in an animal trap, bleeding to death. Even with tears in his eyes, regarding him with fear and suspicion, the nymph is the most breathtaking creature Yongguk has ever seen.





	1. Autumn 1/3

Yongguk didn’t know why he hadn’t come to the Surface in so long. Its beauty was far too incredible to have missed; as far as he could see, there were red, orange and yellow leaves, decorating the treetops and the forest floor, crunching as he walked over them.

At first, the trees were a shock to him. Yongguk had never seen such colourful leaves before. He could recall green on the trees, and brown on forest floors, but never these warm colours. He knew better than to be surprised – the spirits of the forest may have decided to try something new – but he couldn’t help feeling lost. Like he had been left behind while everyone moved on.

The god closed his eyes, focusing on the crisp, cool air around him. The Underworld was warm and felt like home to him, but it had nothing so refreshing. He remembered a time when he used to escape to the forests after being exhausted of his duties, but he had stopped, long ago, thinking he had grown up.

Yongguk continued strolling, passing a meadow with an abundance of flowers, of a wide range of colours. The flowers covered the ground like grass, reaching from one end of the clearing, to another.

He gently plucked a flower from its stalk, admiring how its petals curled delicately. It was coloured white, tinted with the lightest purple, and its petals were soft to touch. In the sunlight, it seemed to glow. His heart sunk. If he took it back with him to the Underworld, there was no doubt that it would crumble and disintegrate into ash, like all plants. Nature belonged on the Surface, not below, where there was only death.

He placed the flower on the ground and continued walking.

Admittedly, Yongguk was not truly ‘going’ anywhere. The god was simply following wherever his legs took him. Before long, the sounds of rushing water filled his ears, and he walked towards the spring, curious if he would find any animals there. So far, he had only heard of birds in the trees, which was strange. From what he had seen, the forest would be heaven for other animals, and yet it was as empty of life as the Underworld.

He trudged through the trees, pushing through branches until he could see the spring, water rushing from a small waterfall. There was even a young doe at the bottom, leaning over where the water pooled to drink.

Yongguk found his pace quickening towards her, trying to keep his footsteps quiet, as to not spook the doe. Her ears flickered in his direction, and she stopped drinking, now alert. He tried to not make any sudden movements, but he couldn’t completely mask himself – that would be impossible. It would be best to just announce himself as a friend, not a threat.

He was only a few feet away from the river when he felt the ground beneath him crunch, a sound different to the dry leaves from before. A piercing shriek made the deer bolt, and Yongguk immediately dropped to his knees, searching to see what he had hurt.

His eyes widened when he saw a human hand recoil beneath the bushes, and he reached out to grasp it with his own. He heard a muffled whimper as the hand tried to pull away again, but then there was only silence. The hand was trembling in fear – and it felt cold.

“Why are you hiding yourself?” Yongguk murmured. He let go of the hand, watching it disappear into the leaves. “There is no need to fear me,” he promised, hoping that it would be enough to convince the human to leave the bush. He had no idea why one would be under a prickly plant to begin with.

Time passed without another movement from the human.

He didn’t move an inch, hoping that the human would crawl out on his own. He wasn’t expecting the plant’s leaves to recede into its branches, and its branches to recede into the forest ground, until it left nothing behind but a lean boy on the forest floor.

His body was curled up, protectively holding his hand to his chest. He was lying on his stomach, sprawled out vulnerably. Yongguk couldn’t miss the sharp stake that was impaled deep into his leg, or the thick blood seeping from the wound. The floor around his leg was even stained red, hidden with the warm-coloured leaves.

Tears were gathered at the corners of the boy’s eyes as Yongguk quietly observed his state, and he regarded the god with a mixture of fear and distrust. He looked so small, splayed out in front of the elder, even though Yongguk could see he was definitely a lot taller than he was. He had lost too much blood. The god could already sense death looming over him, waiting to drain the life from him, to replace the colour of his skin with coldness. He had seen it happen before, millions of times.

Yet, there was a spark in the youth’s eyes that told him that death would not take him so easily.

Yongguk hoped so. He was beautiful.

Finally, he noticed the loose white clothing that the boy was wearing, and realised that his earlier assumption – that the hand belonged to a human – was incorrect. That would explain how the bush disappeared, without any movement from the boy.

“What are you doing here, young nymph?” he wondered aloud. The poor thing was shaking in not only fear, but weakness, and he seemed to refuse to answer.

The boy was still breathing steadily, but he had been here for a few days already, no doubt captured by the animal trap.

“Will you let me free you?” Yongguk asked gently, watching as the nymph licked his dry lips and took a breath.

“L-Lord... Yongguk,” he croaked. Yongguk nodded – and was surprised to see the nymph relax at his confirmation. What was he so afraid of, if the God of Death was a _better_ alternative? The nymph opened his mouth again, but Yongguk shook his head.

“Do not strain yourself,” Yongguk hushed, fingers combing through the nymph’s soft hair in an attempt to comfort him. “Removing the stake will hurt, but I will do it swiftly.”

The boy nodded and Yongguk moved to his bleeding leg. The wound was large, much larger than the stake, evidence that the nymph had struggled before realising it was causing him more pain. When the god tried to pull the stake out, he realised that it required more force than the nymph probably possessed, especially when he was so weak.

Yongguk grunted as he pulled the metal out of the nymph’s flesh, wincing at the sound of his cry. He heard the leaves around him rustle, before all was silent, except for the nymph crying into his hand, trying to muffle his sobs.

“It’s over, it’s over, sweetling,” the god soothed, stroking the nymph’s hair. He discarded the stake on the floor, and slid his arms under the boy’s knees and back, lifting him up ease. He began walking towards the spring without any hesitation.

At the riverbank, he settled the nymph down, making sure his wound wasn’t disturbed. The stake didn’t fully go through his leg, but the injury was still deep, to the bone. It looked horrific, even if Yongguk had seen worse.

The boy stared up at Yongguk, his light brown eyes regarding him with curiosity and wonder, even though his cheeks were damp with tears. He didn’t flinch when Yongguk adjusted him in his lap, so he could sit comfortably, and reached up to wipe his tears away.

“Are you strong enough to drink?” Yongguk asked.

The nymph nodded, and Yongguk watched in fascination as he stretched his arm out towards the water, and a vine grew. It curled downwards, where its single leaf dipped into the spring to collect water. The leaf was brought to the boy’s lips, and he drank greedily

After a few moments, he stopped and the vine returned into his palm.

“Thank you, Lord Yongguk,” he said timidly. He still seemed weak, but much stronger than before. He tried to move off Yongguk’s lap, and the god assisted him. Pink covered his cheeks, but he didn’t refuse the help, simply remaining silent as Yongguk faced him.

Every time Yongguk gazed at him, he was surprised at how captivating he was. He was innocent, pure, yet somehow matured. Like he had seen many things in his lifetime.

“May I know your name?” Yongguk asked.

The nymph smiled, his eyes sparkling with mirth, as if he knew how interested Yongguk was already. “I am the nymph of these forests. My name is Junhong.”

Yongguk couldn’t hide his relief at finally being able to put a name to a beautiful face, but Junhong’s words confused him.

“Do you not have a family, young one?”

“I am almost nine hundred years old,” Junhong protested Yongguk’s affectionate name, but he quietened immediately. Perhaps he recalled that Yongguk had lived longer than time. “My _nymphai_ are gone.”

“Gone?”

“Murdered,” Junhong’s gaze lowered to his lap, and he stopped looking at Yongguk entirely. The god wished he could hold him closer, but he did not want to spook the other. Especially when he was like this.

“That’s why you feared me, at the beginning,” Yongguk said. Junhong didn’t reply, but he did not correct him either, so the god knew he had spoken the truth. “Who caused you so much pain?”

Junhong was either unwilling to answer, or thinking of what to reply. He bit his lip nervously, and looked up at Yongguk.

“The villagers nearby...” the nymph began, and Yongguk stiffened. “They are still learning how to survive. They do not know that the forest supplies them with so much more than meat.”

“They wanted to eat you?” Yongguk asked, alarmed, and the boy shook his head hurriedly.

“No, no! My lord, you misunderstand,” the boy’s lips were quirked, and he seemed amused for a split second. Yongguk would have been offended, if not for Junhong’s hand holding onto his arm. “The trap was for other animals. I fell into it because I was not watching where I was going.” He flushed in embarrassment.

“Your _nymphai_ all fell into traps made for other animals, then?”

“No. The villagers hate nymphs, as well,” Junhong explained, and he held his hand out. From his palm grew a single stalk, blossoming into the exact flower Yongguk saw earlier, just as delicate. The leaves framed the flower, and Yongguk could only watch in amazement as even more flowers grew from the nymph’s palm, covering his skin.

Junhong looked at his creation with sadness in his eyes that spoke of his loneliness, and the flowers disappeared as quickly as they came. “They are envious and fearful of our powers, so they try to eliminate us, before we hurt them, or take their food. But... nymphs are not violent creatures. We would never want to fight them.”

He looked up at Yongguk, who could see the beginning of tears in his eyes. “I-I’m sorry. You must have heard of stories like this before. I’m only boring you.”

“No,” Yongguk shook his head. “What those villagers are doing is terrible. Even if I had heard of stories like this before, that does not make their actions any less evil.” Yongguk knew nymphs weren’t violent creatures. From what he had seen already, Junhong seemed docile, and definitely too trusting to be cruel.

Rage filled his body, hot and burning. The selfish actions of the villagers had caused a young nymph so much pain – he had lost his _family_. Without knowing, Yongguk felt a snarl escape his throat.

“They are not all like that,” Junhong was quick to say. He hadn’t shrunk back at all, unafraid of Yongguk. The god was surprised, both at his words and his bravery. “There is one human in the village who I have considered a friend since he was a child.”

“But he did not come for you,” Yongguk pointed out.

Junhong squared his shoulders, clearly challenging the god’s accusations. “He would not have been able to find me, nonetheless. I hid myself so I could not have been found by any human.”

Yongguk took a breath to calm himself, and immediately went cold when he realised he could still feel death nearby – Junhong’s wound was still bleeding out.

“I apologise, I forgot about your injury so quickly,” he stared at Junhong, who cocked his head in confusion. “In the Underworld, I have a healer, who could look at your wound and fix it before long. Definitely quicker than it would heal by itself. If you’ll allow me, I could bring you to him.” He looked at the nymph, feeling strangely hopeful.

Perhaps Junhong would love the Underworld. Perhaps he could bring some life into Yongguk’s days, which were usually filled with death and gloom.

Junhong looked shocked, but then his face closed up, and he looked down. “I think it would be better if I remained here, my lord.”

“But... you will not heal quickly. You may not heal at all.”

A large leaf appeared and Junhong placed it on top of his wound, biting his tongue so he would not hiss. He wrapped it around his leg. “It will heal in its own time,” he replied. When he looked up at Yongguk, he looked serious. “This forest needs me, and I do not wish to abandon it.”

Yongguk tilted his head. It had been long since someone had spoken to him so strongly, and he suddenly realised that the nymph had thought he was trying to lure him to death.

“You misunderstand me, young one,” he said finally, in amusement. “I was not inviting you into the Underworld permanently, but only to heal your injury. I understand your confusion, though.”

He moved to stand up, leaving the nymph sitting on the river bank. “Then, I will leave you in this forest to heal,” he promised, eyes locked on the younger’s. Junhong was staring up at him in shock.

“I-I apologise if I offended you, my lord,” the nymph bowed his head, looking ashamed.

“Do not apologise, it was an easy misunderstanding,” Yongguk shook his head. “Will you allow me to return to check on your healing, though?” he asked, seeing the nymph immediately look up, eyes shining in the sunlight.

“Of course!”

Yongguk leaned over to card his fingers through the nymph’s hair for the final time. “It was delightful to meet you, Junhong, nymph of these forests.”

“I’m honoured to have met you, Yongguk, Lord of the Underworld,” Junhong returned his smile, and Yongguk had to resist the urge to lean over and slot their lips together.

“Until I see you again,” Yongguk said lowly, before he vanished, leaving the nymph alone and next to the river bank.

 

When he returned to the Underworld, he felt himself release a breath he had not known he was holding. He felt his lips form a smile, and he entered his palace without losing it.

He had not felt so comfortable with someone, for a long time.

“You look like a fool, smiling like that, Yongguk,” he heard a voice call, and he looked up to see the mischievous face of his healer. Himchan was on the second floor of the palace, staring down at Yongguk, with a smirk. Behind him stood his lover, Yongguk’s most trusted attendant, but Jongup was both silent and emotionless, as usual.

Yongguk never fell into the trap of refuting Himchan’s teasing – that would only result in more smart comments from the man. Instead, he felt his smile widen. “I met someone today, Himchan. On the Surface.”

“Oh?”

“A nymph,” Yongguk answered happily. He looked down at his fingers, remembering how the nymph was so comfortable around him. He hadn’t even minded Yongguk’s touch. Often, people feared him so much, they thought everything he touched would die. Junhong had also called him the Lord of the Underworld, not the God of Death, like so many would. Whilst both were true, Yongguk did not like to be reminded of the death that constantly surrounded him.

His smile softened as he tried to remember every detail of their meeting. “He was the most beautiful being I have ever laid my eyes upon.”

“Infatuated so soon?” Himchan raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure he was not an incubus?”

“He was not,” Yongguk said confidently. He released a quiet sigh as he made his way up the stairs, so he could talk to Himchan comfortably.

“I think I will court him.”


	2. Autumn 2/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junhong was so vulnerable, so pure. Yongguk would never let anything happen to him.

“So what is it like, being courted by the infamous Lord of the Underworld?” Youngjae teased, resting his head on his palm. He watched as Junhong paused his work, blushing, and smiled in amusement.

“It has only been a few days,” the nymph said shyly, his deft fingers weaving flower stalks together. In his lap laid a half-finished flower crown that he intended to gift to Youngjae.

“It may have been a few days, but he has already presented you with so many gifts,” the human commented, his eyes on the sparkling jewels decorating Junhong’s fingers. They shined in the sunlight, glittering a rainbow of colours.

“Yongguk treats me well,” Junhong admitted, a soft smile on his lips, remembering how the lord would fuss over his injury and insist on supporting him when he walked. To him, that affection spoke volumes, even more than the jewellery which Yongguk had gifted him with, although he appreciated the gifts as well. The Lord of the Underworld was apparently extremely wealthy, and generous as well.

Youngjae grinned, returning to work on the flower crown in his own lap. “I’m glad. It is what you deserve.”

 “I admit I am still shocked he chose me, though,” Junhong confessed, after a moment of silence. He looked down, his lips shaped in a light frown, as he smoothed a flower’s bent petal. “He is a god, and I am a mere nymph under his feet.”

Youngjae released a quiet hum of disagreement. “Do not think so lowly of yourself. If there is anyone out there who deserves to have you, it would be a god.”

The nymph laughed, “Only you would say that, Youngjae.”

“That does not mean I do not speak the truth,” the human’s eyes softened in admiration. “You are beautiful, yet kind... I am surprised this is your first courtship in your nine hundred years.”

“Are you perhaps jealous that Lord Yongguk claimed me first?” Junhong teased, and Youngjae rolled his eyes in response. “Or are you still infatuated with the villager’s prince, like you were when you were a child?”

“Junhong!” the human’s mouth opened, shocked, but his ears were quickly turning warm. The nymph dissolved into laughter, guessing he was correct, as Youngjae scowled in embarrassment. He began threading the flowers in his lap with newly-found vigour, “He is not a prince. He’s the village leader’s son.”

“They are similar,” Junhong shrugged. He completed his flower crown with a flourish and placed it on top of Youngjae’s hair. He smiled and moved back, looking satisfied with his work – the autumn colours complemented Youngjae’s dark hair perfectly. “Now you can be the prince, also.”

“You are ridiculous, Junhong,” Youngjae said, but he was grinning. Junhong began working on another flower crown, creating the flowers he needed as he used them, beaming at his human friend, whose blush had still not faded.

“Why did you stop talking about him, though? I always assumed your interest faded away, but you seem just as infatuated as ever,” the nymph said, looking concerned.

“I grew up,” Youngjae replied, avoiding the nymph’s gaze. “An orphan like me could never be with someone like Daehyun.”

Junhong found himself frowning at his friend’s dejected tone, “Youngjae, being an orphan should not stop him from returning your feelings, if he is a decent man.”

The human shrugged, casting his eyes downwards.

He was young, only twenty years, but he was alone. His mother had passed during his birth, and his father killed himself weeks after, leaving the baby to be raised by his grandmother. Whilst Youngjae was raised with just as much love as the other children of the village, his grandmother had delayed telling him the truth behind his parents’ passing, leading him to wander into the forest one day, barely five years old, looking for them. Junhong had found him wailing for his grandmother, and immediately saw himself in the boy, entertaining him with his flowers and feeding him fruit before sending him home with the brightest grin.

They had been close ever since, with Youngjae regularly sneaking out to visit him in the forest. It had gotten much easier in the recent years, after Youngjae’s grandmother passed, but he had been left without a guardian at seventeen.

Junhong knew everything about him, from his backstory, to his everlasting infatuation with the ‘prince’ of the village. When Youngjae was ten, he’d announced loudly to Junhong that he wanted to court a boy in his village, much to the nymph’s amusement. Junhong had thought his interest would fade in mere weeks, but Youngjae had talked to Junhong about the ‘prince’ for years, stopping only when he was sixteen.

Junhong could see how upset Youngjae looked, and he strived to change the topic, wondering what the true reason was behind his silence about Daehyun.

“Would you like to view my newest creation?” he questioned, smiling when Youngjae brightened and nodded eagerly. He added, “I honestly think it’s my best yet.”

Youngjae watched in fascination as a small tree grew from the ground, sprouting large fruit, at least the size of a fist. Junhong’s gaze was concentrated on his work, although a small smile lifted his lips when he saw its success. The tree spiralled above their seating forms, towards the sun.

 When Junhong had deemed its growth as satisfactory, he reached up to pluck the fruit, and it fell apart easily in his hands, revealing the insides.

Youngjae peered at the fruit and tilted his head. It seemed to gleam mouth-watering red, but it was filled with only seeds.

“At first, the fruit may seem impractical, but its taste is delicious,” Junhong assured, taking a seed and placing it in his mouth. He offered the fruit to Youngjae, who did the same.

The human’s eyes widened.

“I think you have outdone yourself this time,” he complimented, reaching for more. Junhong gave him half of the fruit, and kept the other half for himself, feeling hungry now that he had just begun eating.

“You really think so?”

“Definitely. Your talents never cease to amaze me.”

Junhong preened at the compliments, looking delighted. At that moment, Youngjae placed his finished flower crown on the other’s head, sitting back to observe how ethereal the other looked.

Whilst Junhong had made Youngjae’s crown with warm colours, Youngjae had made his with pink flowers and sprigs of leaves. Youngjae knew his best friend was alluring, but now he seemed impossibly so; the pink flowers in his light blond hair made him seem adorable. The nymph seemed unaware of his own beauty, but Youngjae was not sure how – he swore if the people of the village saw him, they would be so stunned that they would forget their hatred of nymphs.

Still, it was not a chance Youngjae was willing to take.

“Now the Lord of the Underworld will be swept away,” the human said. He took seeds from the fruit and ate them, releasing a pleased hum. Ever since he could remember, Junhong had been showing him new fruit, but this was easily his favourite.

“Lord Yongguk...” Junhong mumbled, unknowingly reaching up to fix his hair.

Youngjae’s mouth curved into a smile – his best friend had fallen for the lord so quickly. “Will he be arriving today?”

“He is. Would you like to meet him?”

“I would,” Youngjae hesitated. “I do have to return home, though. There is a festival in my village tonight, and I must be present…” His lips formed a pout, and his eyebrows creased. To go to a mundane festival, or to see the Lord of the Underworld… his choice was obvious. But he knew he would only be viewed as more of an outcast if he did not attend, and he did not wish to raise any suspicions of what he was doing in these forests.

“A festival?” The nymph exclaimed, looking bright. Talks of celebrations never ceased to excite him, as he hadn’t attended any in centuries. “Whatever for?”

“It is a new event, this year,” Youngjae explained, looking exhausted at the mention of it. He muttered bitterly, “The village leader thought a festival was needed to celebrate the hordes of admirers his eldest son has.”

“That seems conceited,” Junhong commented. “But perhaps it may be a useful way to introduce yourself to the prince, if everyone is occupied with his older brother.”

“No,” Youngjae refused immediately.

“But it would! It would be romantic as well,” the nymph smiled to himself and held out his hand, where a bouquet of flowers formed immediately. “You could gift this to him.”

“Absolutely not,” Youngjae refused again, but he took the flowers from the nymph anyway. He always loved seeing Junhong’s creations – they were like magic. “I may have exaggerated a little, though. The festival is for the entire village to meet new people, but everyone tends to flock to the leader’s sons anyway.”

“I hope you meet someone who appreciates you, Youngjae,” Junhong reached over to smooth his hair, like he used to when the human was a child. “You better go and get ready. Perhaps you’ll meet your intended tonight?”

“I doubt it,” Youngjae said bluntly, but stood up anyway. He had spent a few hours with Junhong already, and he didn’t want anyone to come looking for him. Junhong winced as he stood up, and Youngjae frowned at his still injured leg. The nymph had not told him what had happened, and hid his injury behind a bandage of leaves, so he could not view the wound. He hoped it was not serious, but Junhong was determined not to let him worry.

Not caring about his injured leg, Junhong reached up to take more fruit, thrusting them into his friend’s hands. Even more fruit grew from the empty branches.

“I hope you celebrate well,” the nymph said, helping Youngjae gather them without dropping any. Youngjae also tried to hold onto the bouquet of flowers from earlier, and struggled to keep them together. Junhong often poked fun at Youngjae’s smaller hands, much to the human’s annoyance.

Youngjae gave him a soft smile, “I hope you stay safe, Junhong. I’ll see you soon.” He eventually gave in and used his arms to hold everything together, only holding the bouquet in his hands. Hopefully he wouldn’t look too strange. Junhong embraced him quickly before sending him off.

He left the meadow, remembering the direction he had arrived. The two never met up at the same place, in case a villager would come across them, but Youngjae had developed a clear image of the forest in the past fifteen years he had been sneaking out to see Junhong.

The human walked home at a slow pace – if he dropped any of the fruit, he didn’t think he’d be able to pick it up. In the distance, he could see the entrance of his village, and the people already preparing for the festival later at night. It wasn’t even dark yet, but he supposed it would be an elaborate celebration.

It didn’t matter to him, anyway. He already knew he would come back home tonight as alone as ever. His shoulders hunched at the thought.

When he was younger, he always entertained the thought of running into the forests with Junhong, but now he realised that it was safer for both of them if he remained in the village. He could tell the nymph when and where the hunting groups would go searching for animals, and Junhong could avoid those areas, and avoid getting caught by the villagers.

Still, he often wondered what it would be like. Perhaps he would meet a man from another village, on the other side of the forests, who would care for him like no one had before, except Junhong.

He knew it was unlikely, almost impossible, but entertaining himself with such thoughts was more enjoyable than facing the loneliness of reality.

Youngjae walked into the village and towards his house, not wanting to stop and talk to anybody, lest he get roped into doing some task for the village elders. Last festival, he had to stand in the sun all day and help someone with decorations for hours – it was not fun, at all. His eyes felt heavy just recalling the memory.

“Youngjae, are you in a rush?”

The human almost cursed – he was so close to home – but when he turned around, he was surprised by the village leader’s youngest son, gazing at him seriously. It was a face that Youngjae knew well, although it hardly ever looked at him from this angle.

“No,” Youngjae murmured shyly as soon as he could speak, his grip on the fruit and flowers tightening as Daehyun neared. “I was going home, to prepare for the festival.”

The frown on the other man’s face disappeared into a look of confusion.

“You... are attending?” Daehyun said in surprise.

Youngjae blinked, and hid a sigh. “Not of my own free will. Your father _did_ command that every bachelor in the village was to be in attendance.”

Daehyun’s mouth fell open, and Youngjae frowned. Was the man mocking him? There was no reason to act surprised; Youngjae was hardly attractive, and everyone in the village knew he was always alone.

He wasn’t expecting the man to reach out and straighten the flower crown on top of his head, eyes still locked on his. Youngjae had forgotten it was even there, but he had not expected anyone to point it out, let alone Daehyun.

They had not even interacted since they were children, and now the prince was acting like they were close.

Daehyun was still staring at him as he fixed the crown, and his hand lingered even after he had finished. There was a faraway look in his eyes, and Youngjae wanted nothing more than to take advantage of the situation to take in all of the man’s details, from his warm, almond eyes, to his perfectly shaped nose to his deep cupid’s bow – but he looked down, avoiding the other’s gaze.

He swallowed, hoping that the other would not be offended.

“I must go,” Daehyun said suddenly, his hand dropping to his side. He looked embarrassed. “I look forward to seeing you tonight.”

“Um. As do I,” Youngjae said, at a loss for words, and the other male nodded.

“Make sure you eat before attending the festival. It will run late,” Daehyun said, before walking away. Youngjae stared after him, wondering if the male had always been so strange, or if he was up to something.

 

Junhong stayed in the meadow as the sun set below the trees, and the sky darkened. He rested on the fruit tree that he had created earlier, wondering when the god would come.

Yongguk must be busy if he had not arrived yet. Junhong hoped he hadn’t forgotten about his promise, but the nymph would not be angry if he did. Nor would he be surprised – it was strange enough that the Lord would be interested in him to begin with.

The second flower crown he made lay in his lap and he smoothed each leaf carefully. It was his favourite creation so far, with a variety of sprigs and white flowers that seemed to glow in the moonlight. He wished to present it to Yongguk, as a courting gift.

The nymph couldn’t give Yongguk jewels, or anything extravagant, but he hoped that it would suffice.

 He tried to focus his hearing, wondering if he could hear the god before he could see him. His hearing was definitely sharper than his eyesight, especially in the night.

To his surprise, he could even hear the village’s celebrations when he focused, and he wondered if Youngjae was enjoying himself. The festival seemed like so much fun – gatherings with food and loud music... It reminded him of the celebrations his _nymphai_ used to hold, centuries ago.

For a second, he allowed himself to think of attending one of the village’s celebrations, dancing with the humans until the dawn, but he snapped himself out of his daydream quickly.

Even imagining the humans could be dangerous; if he trusted them, they would betray him.

Just like they betrayed Junseo.

His fingernails bit into his palms as he tried to think of something else, but he couldn’t stop the flashes of memories. Junseo bleeding out in front of him, telling him to stay safe, and to never trust humans again.

As the night turned black and the birds stopped chirping, Junhong felt his eyes drift shut, and he fell asleep.

Alone.

 

 Yongguk cursed as he appeared on the Surface, his eyes adjusting to the darkness before he started running. It was already night – how long had he kept Junhong waiting? While he hoped the nymph had given up and gone somewhere safe for the night, he also didn’t want him to feel disappointed.

He feared the nymph would not forgive him, for abandoning him.

He bristled to himself. Junhong would surely not accept his ridiculous excuse, but he could say nothing but the truth: his brother had yet again caused havoc and ruined his plans by insisting he return to Olympus, to meet his siblings and the rest of the gods.

For all the times before, Yongnam had at least turned up for the meal, but this time, the Lord of the Seas was nowhere in sight. When Yongguk had asked Natasha where Yongnam had gone, she replied that he had never planned on coming.

“Bastard,” Yongguk swore, thinking about how he had been roped into sharing a twelve-course meal with the other gods, whilst Yongnam had managed to escape.

It was much worse, because Natasha had somehow found out about his courtship to Junhong, and had been bothering him about it for the entire time. Yongguk was not surprised – as the Goddess of all Gods, she knew everything that happened in the Skies, on the Surface, in the Seas and in the Underworld.

He could admit he often was envious of her power. She often took it for granted.

He stumbled into the meadow, and was immediately relieved at the sight of Junhong resting under a tree. His heartrate picked up when he realised the nymph was asleep, and his pace quickened.

The tree stood out in the middle of the field, but Yongguk supposed that it was useful for supplying shade. In the dark, he could see its leaves were protecting Junhong, but it looked bare, without any fruit or flowers.

He settled down beside Junhong’s slumbering figure, and brushed the hair away from his eyes. For some reason, he was wearing a flower crown, but Yongguk could not deny that it enhanced his features, as the moonlight illuminated his face.

He was alarmed to see his lover’s eyelashes damp with tears, but his eyes fluttered open seconds later, staring at Yongguk.

For a second, Yongguk froze, but then his hand caressed the nymph’s cheek, and he wiped away a stray tear.

“Why were you crying, sweetling?” he asked quietly, watching as Junhong swallowed nervously, his eyes darting away.

“It sometimes happens,” he answered, lifting his hands to brush away his tears roughly. “I am sorry I fell asleep waiting.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Yongguk murmured, wondering why the nymph didn’t want to answer his question directly. Perhaps he dreamt of his family.

The god knew he could find out what happened to Junhong’s _nymphai_ , and what exactly had caused the humans to murder them; there were records kept in the Underworld, after all. But he did not want to, unless Junhong was willing to share it himself – it seemed far too personal. Until then, he would not pry.

“You must be tired,” Yongguk said, noticing Junhong was blinking rapidly to keep himself awake. He was still leaning against the tree, all energy seeming to have left his body.

“I do not want to sleep when I can spend time with you,” the nymph responded, even though his eyelids were heavy. The god couldn’t help his smile when Junhong stifled a yawn moments later. The nymph may have been adamant that his nine hundred years meant he was no longer young, but his childish stubbornness seemed to disagree.

“I will be here when you awaken, I promise,” Yongguk assured him, and he could see the boy’s will weakening.

Junhong released a soft sigh, and stared at Yongguk, before his eyes flickered to the god’s lap momentarily and he tilted his head. He was wearing an adorable pout, blinking pleadingly – Yongguk agreed immediately to his wordless question.

Junhong moved gracefully to rest his head on the god’s lap. Yongguk’s hand began playing with the other’s hair, and asked, “Is this comfortable for you, my little nymph?”

“Am I little?” the nymph mumbled sleepily, his eyes opening to stare at the god. Yongguk softened at the sight of him, and couldn’t help but lean over to press a soft kiss to his forehead. Junhong’s mouth opened slightly, and Yongguk wondered – not for the first time – if he had ever been courted before.

“If you sleep well, I may wake you up with another,” he teased, and was surprised by Junhong rolling over immediately on his side and curling up for comfort. Yongguk almost laughed at how eager the younger was – something told him that later, when they were closer, exchanging kisses for hours would become a favourite pastime.

“Falling asleep will be easy, when you are here to keep me safe,” the nymph said quietly. Yongguk felt a fierce wave of overprotection wash over him – this boy was so vulnerable, so _pure_ , he could never let anything happen to him.

As Junhong slept, and Yongguk watched his figure rise and fall with every breath, he wondered if Yongnam was wrong; that it _was_ possible for someone to love the God of Death.

He hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to drop by on my [tumblr](http://junhng.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/sproutjun)!


	3. Autumn 3/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yongguk was the greatest threat to any mortal being, whilst Junhong created life. They were opposites, and Junhong deserved so much more than him, but Yongguk had never wanted, or loved, someone so much before.

Junhong slumbered peacefully on Yongguk’s lap as the god watched over him, admiring his beauty. For Yongguk, time had always passed quickly, but as the sun rose high in the sky, he found himself hoping that time would stop, so Junhong could rest for longer.

Eventually, the shade of the tree couldn’t stop the sun from shining in Junhong’s face, and he woke up slowly, a quiet yawn escaping his mouth as he stretched.

He wasn’t shocked to see Yongguk when he opened his eyes, only smiling sleepily up at him. Yongguk didn’t think he could ever tire of how his lips curved and his face softened.

“Have you forgotten your promise?” the nymph asked, his voice low after he had just woken up. Yongguk couldn’t help but think about waking up beside Junhong in the future, and hearing that voice mumble for him to stay in bed. He immediately berated himself for thinking too far ahead.

“How could I forget the moment I’ve been looking forward to for hours?” Yongguk questioned, clasping their hands together before brushing his lips over Junhong’s forehead again. The nymph’s eyes closed, and his lips curved into a smile, which stayed even as Yongguk parted.

“I want to wake like this every morning,” the nymph announced as he sat up, and Yongguk’s eyes widened momentarily at his bluntness. Junhong noticed his reaction, and realised what his words alluded to, a bright blush immediately covering his cheeks. He looked down, stammering, “I-I did not mean –!”

“Do not fret,” Yongguk laughed, and the nymph hid his face in his hands. “I do not think I have ever felt as close to anyone, as I do with you,” the god confessed quietly. Junhong looked up and smiled.

“I feel the same,” he said. He hesitated, before creating a flower crown from mid-air, the same one he had created yesterday. Yongguk watched in amazement, as Junhong presented the white crown to him shyly, biting his bottom lip, as if he thought the god wouldn’t accept it.

The thought of rejecting the gift was ridiculous, especially when Yongguk could see the time Junhong had taken to weave the flower stalks together, combining the colours of the forest. All for him. Yongguk had never seen the white flowers before, and realised – with shock – that they were new. Junhong had created a new species for _him_.

He lowered his head so Junhong could place the crown atop his head.

In the Underworld, he had thousands of jewelled crowns, all more worth than any human’s wealth on the Surface. Yet, Junhong’s crown was the one which made him feel the most powerful, especially since the nymph lit up with joy when he realised Yongguk accepted his gift.

“You are beautiful, my lord,” the forest spirit said honestly.

“I am honoured you created this for me,” Yongguk replied, his hand reaching out to clasp the other’s hand. Junhong was wearing his own flower crown, decorated with pale pink flora.

Perhaps he was thinking too far ahead, but the crowns seemed like a promise of forever.

Before he could forget, Yongguk apologised for being late last night, and supplied his reason why – although Junhong forgave him quickly. Yongguk was unable to hide his feelings towards the rest of the Gods, and their conversation soon turned to his siblings.

Junhong already knew a lot about his sister and brother, most likely from folklore, but he was fascinated to learn that they were just like any other family, with arguments and disputes.

“You dislike your brother?” he asked Yongguk, surprised. His mouth was open, and he looked surprised. Many people usually were; they thought that as the gods were as old as time, they would have eventually run out of things to fight about.

Yet, even after hundreds of millennia, Yongnam still prodded his younger brother for being the God of Death, telling him that he killed everything he touched, and that no one would ever love him. The reason why Yongguk had not returned to the Surface in centuries was because of Yongnam. He could not stand to look any living being in the eye, knowing that his touch could kill them instantly, if his control just slipped.

The lord scowled, “I despise him.”

Junhong blinked, unable to hide his curiosity. In his nine hundred years, he had never met the Lord of the Seas, despite the beach being on the other side of the village. He often wondered if the seas were as empty of fish, as his forests were empty of animals.

“Why?”

“He is cruel,” Yongguk said shortly, and he pulled his hand away from Junhong as he tried to calm the hatred that surfaced whenever he was reminded of his brother. “He plays with both mortals and gods, as if they were his own toys.”

“Truly?”

“I would not lie to you,” the god sighed softly, resignation in his voice. He touched Junhong’s knee gently, “He will not harm you. I will make sure of it.”

“I trust you,” the nymph said, without a moment’s hesitation. “Is your relationship with your sister better?”

“Much better. She and I rarely fight,” he noticed Junhong’s shoulders lift, as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders. “Was something worrying you?”

Junhong smiled shyly and shook his head, “I am just relieved both the Lady of the Skies and the Lord of the Underworld are kind.”

“Perhaps I am only kind to you,” Yongguk teased, but he knew there was a truth in his words. It was no secret that he was kinder to Junhong than he had been to any mortal before. He could even have been considered cruel to some, although he tried his best to remain impartial.

Other than Himchan, Junhong was the only mortal he had ever even liked.

Still, he was surprised when Junhong frowned at his words, even if he was joking.

“You lie,” the nymph decided. “I know you are kind, my lord. The flowers like you, so you must be.”

The god’s eyebrows raised, amused. “Can they speak?”

“In their own way,” Junhong replied, gently taking a flower from the ground near them. He placed it in Yongguk’s palm. “Flowers are kind too, they offer their beauty for us, even if there is nothing we can give them in return. They recognise one of their own.”

“I do not think the flowers in this forest would survive, without you,” the god said, and Junhong shrugged.

“I do not know. I have never left these forests,” he said. “But flowers are resilient. I think they could last for centuries, if I were to disappear.”

Yongguk did not like where this conversation was going, and he settled a firm hand over Junhong’s. “Nothing will happen to you,” he repeated, and Junhong nodded.

“I know, I know...” He took a deep breath, and Yongguk could sense sadness and loneliness washing over him. “My brother said the same thing to me, once.”

“Were you close?” Yongguk asked quietly, knowing that Junhong may not be willing to speak about him.

“We were,” the nymph said, smiling sadly down at his hands. “He was the nymph of fruit, and he took great joy in creating fruit for the village-people, a long time ago.”

Yongguk stayed silent. He could tell that Junhong did not speak of his brother often, and he was recalling fond memories, perhaps some he had not thought about for years.

“He was a hundred years older than me, but we were still close. I did not look up to anyone in my _nymphai_ as much as I looked up to Junseo,” Junhong smiled sadly. Yongguk wanted nothing more than to pull the younger into an embrace, but he feared that the movement would make the nymph close up. “He kept me safe.”

“If he was half as talented as you in making fruit, as you are in making flowers, then I am sure his skills were greatly valued and greatly missed,” Yongguk said, and Junhong cocked his head in confusion.

“...Did I misspeak?” Yongguk had not seen any fruit, so he had assumed that they had died, along with Junhong’s brother.

The nymph looked up, towards the empty branches of the tree, and immediately frowned. Yongguk was busy thinking about how much he wanted to smooth the crease between his eyebrows, when fruit sprouted from the branches of the tree, and one fell into Junhong’s lap.

“I thought I created more fruit yesterday...” the nymph murmured to himself in thought, but he did not ponder for too long on their sudden disappearance, and offered some of the fruit to Yongguk. “I taught myself the skills of my _nymphai_ , after they were killed,” Junhong said in explanation, at the sight of Yongguk’s surprised expression. The god did not think he was so uneducated in nymph lore, but he had always thought that most nymphs could only polish one skill.

He took a seed from the fruit, and bit down. It immediately burst in his mouth, the sweetness making him hum in pleasure. He reached for another.

“I am still learning, for I am nowhere near Junseo’s skill, yet, but Youngjae tells me that the fruit I make is not awful,” Junhong said, secretly pleased that Yongguk was enjoying himself.

“It is delicious,” Yongguk complimented, laughing as Junhong beamed. “What other skills are you learning?”

“My mother was a water nymph, and my father was a nymph of the trees. My _nymphai_ were the strongest,” Junhong said proudly, and Yongguk softened. How old was Junhong when he parents were murdered, and he was left alone? He did not want to ask, but he could not deny that he was curious.

“Flowers are my strength,” the nymph said, only confirming what Yongguk already knew. He hesitated, and Yongguk assured him silently that he could continue, caressing his face with his hand. It was an intimate action, but not an unwelcome one. He wanted to kiss the soft skin of Junhong’s cheek, but he knew it was not the time.

“It is not a skill with power... I cannot use it to protect myself, or even protect others.” Junhong did not look upset, despite the harshness of his words, and continued on without another moment of hesitation. “But, I find that flowers... they make people happy,” He grinned brightly, “and I think that is powerful, enough.”

After he had said his words, it seemed as if all the flowers in the meadow blossomed, opening their centres and blowing in the wind. Between the flowers and Junhong’s beaming expression, Yongguk didn’t know what to be more in awe of.

Junhong’s smile softened as he stared at the god, and Yongguk couldn’t restrain himself anymore.

He pushed forward and cupped Junhong’s face as he sealed their lips together, his eyes closing. The nymph released a tiny gasp of surprise, but he relaxed into the kiss quickly, letting Yongguk lead. His inexperience was not a secret, and he was not embarrassed by it – he was just as eager as Yongguk. Junhong’s tongue sought the other’s heat, and Yongguk found the nymph’s lips pressing against his own with more force.

The god pushed Junhong onto his back without separating their lips, his hand curving behind the other’s neck before he grasped at his light blond locks. Junhong’s lips were soft and pink, but Yongguk was sure that they would be swollen afterwards, and he would not regret it at all. Yongguk knew he was close to losing control, as their hair and clothes whipped in the wind, but he did not want to stop.

Junhong tasted of fruit and sweetness, of the forest and its freedom. Yongguk had never tasted something so delicious.

He pulled back, forcing himself to calm down. Around them, the wind slowed to a cooling breeze almost immediately; their rumpled tunics and hair were the only evidence of its previous ferocity.

Junhong’s hands fell from Yongguk’s face to the grass, and in a split second, his palms set off an explosion of flowers. They blossomed around the two lovers, until it seemed like they were floating in a sea of pure white and pink.

Junhong’s face was red, and so were his lips – Yongguk could not hide the swell of pride he felt when he saw them, or his overwhelming happiness as Junhong burst out laughing, his eyes forming small crescents as he looked at the effects of the kiss around them.

“You lost control in the most beautiful way,” Yongguk noted, touching a pink petal. They were the same flowers from Junhong’s crown, and the mixed white flowers were from his.

Junhong reached to kiss the corner of Yongguk’s lips, and laced their fingers together, but the god couldn’t help but worry about what could have happened if he had truly lost control, for the weather was only the least of his power.

Whilst it made Yongguk happy to know the nymph trusted him, he was also afraid. He was the greatest threat to any mortal being, whilst Junhong _created_ life. They were opposites, and Junhong deserved so much more than him, but Yongguk had never wanted someone so much.

 

The skies were bright in the afternoon, but they were shaded by the sturdy fruit tree. Junhong had thought about its name for a long time, and had settled for pomegranate, after Yongguk voiced his approval.

He was resting on Yongguk’s lap again, lazily feeding the other man the seeds, when the god tensed, his shoulders stiffening and his sharp eyes staring at the trees.

“What is the matter?” Junhong questioned, sitting up, and Yongguk’s eyes darkened as a figure ran out into the clearing, towards them. The nymph followed his gaze, and blinked in surprise at the sight of his best friend.

“Junhong!” Youngjae cried, and the nymph perked up, holding Yongguk’s hand and encouraging him to stand.

“Youngjae! You’re back so soon,” he greeted, and Youngjae slowed to a stop in front of them. Junhong noticed his awe, and quickly introduced the two. “My lord, this is my best friend Youngjae. Youngjae... you know who he is,” the nymph blushed, leaving Yongguk to wonder if he had been a common topic of conversation.

“Honoured to be in your presence,” the man murmured, and Yongguk could sense the familiar aura of fear that always surrounded humans whenever he was around.

“The pleasure is mine,” he responded, and Junhong leaned forward to clasp his friend’s hands.

“How did the festival proceed, last night? Did you talk to your prince?” he asked eagerly, his eyes sparkling with hope. “Was he gorgeous and handsome?”

A crease appeared between Yongguk’s eyebrows at the last question, and he was surprised to find that he was jealous, even though he knew jealousy was hardly a useful emotion. The crease only deepened when he noticed that Youngjae flinched after the onslaught of Junhong’s questions. He seemed close to panicking.

“The festival was fine, and Daehyun – he’s _not_ a prince, Junhong – was handsome, but we did not talk,” the human said hurriedly. “Junhong, I cannot stay for long, I only came to tell you that you need to leave. _Now._ ”

“What?” The nymph’s blood ran cold.

Yongguk’s hand found Junhong’s at the sound of his fearful tone. He did not like the sound of whatever Youngjae was saying.

“Hunters are coming,” the human said, eyes darting around, as if afraid they would appear from the forests and descend on the three. “Daehyun’s older brother met a girl last night, whom he intends to court. He will require a _feast_.” The human said the word with disgust, and Junhong swallowed, immediately starting to tremble.

“But... the forests are already _empty_ ,” he said desperately. “Last time, they left nothing behind, Youngjae. This cannot happen.” The pure panic in his voice made Yongguk begin to seethe. He rubbed his thumb over the skin of Junhong’s hand, always so gentle.

Youngjae looked torn, “I know, Junhong. But I am a mere villager, I cannot stop the hunting group from coming, especially when led by the village leader’s eldest son...” He looked upset, “I will try to save some of the animals, but you must leave. You cannot protect yourself in the night.”

“I will not leave these forests,” the nymph refused.

“Your leg is already _destroyed_ , Junhong – you cannot even run if they catch you!” Youngjae cried, and Yongguk could no longer hear anymore.

“Come with me,” he turned to Junhong, eyes filled with sincerity and hope, “to the Underworld, for just one night. You will be safe.”

Junhong looked reluctant, eyes falling to the ground, back where the white and pink flowers intertwined below their feet. “Can’t you just stay here and look over me, like you did last night?”

Youngjae released a strangled sound from his throat, but looked away when Yongguk stared at him, unamused.

“I am required in Olympus early tomorrow morning, and I do not want to leave you when you are sleeping,” he said apologetically, heart seizing when Junhong’s bottom lip wobbled. “It is only for one night, Junhong, and my healer can fix your leg, so you can protect yourself in the days following,” Yongguk promised.

The nymph’s reluctance was easing, and the relief on Youngjae’s face was obvious.

“Okay,” Junhong said quietly, his fear palpable in the air. Parting with his home of nine hundred years, even for a few hours, was undoubtedly frightening.

Yongguk brought him into an embrace, tucking his face into the nymph’s neck and breathing in his natural scent of the forest. Junhong was still shaking, but he seemed to calm down in Yongguk’s hold. Youngjae watched their interaction, a smile lifting the corners of his lips, but he knew he could not stay with them.

“I must go, before anyone notices I’m missing,” he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the two. “Thank you so much though, for looking after Junhong,” he enthused to Yongguk, who simply blinked. He wasn’t trying to do any favours for Youngjae – he only wanted to keep Junhong safe.

“Stay safe,” the human said, tapping the nymph’s shoulder, and Junhong turned to pat his head, running his fingers through the soft strands in a farewell that Yongguk knew was a pattern, before the human was leaving, rushing back in the direction of the village.

Junhong took a shaky breath and stepped back from Yongguk’s hold. He looked around the forest, his home, before setting his sight determinedly, on the god in front of him.

“Take me to the Underworld, my lord,” he murmured, but not unwillingly. Yongguk knew he was simply scared, and he laced their fingers together.

“I promise you will be safe, my nymphling,” he assured, and before Junhong could blink, the sun shining down on them disappeared, and they were enveloped in darkness.

Junhong’s fingers clutched at Yongguk’s desperately, his heart pounding in his chest as his eyes sought out his new surroundings. Adjusting to the light, he felt an odd sensation on his head, which made his lips tug into a frown. He heard a muttered curse from Yongguk mere seconds later, and he froze, turning to the god questioningly.

His frown deepened when he realised his gift for the elder had disappeared. Yongguk carded his fingers through his hair, and sighed exhaustedly at the feeling of ashes from the flower crown.

Junhong mirrored his actions, only to find that his own flower crown had crumbled as well. He realised with horror that his leaf bandage on his leg injury had been ruined in the same way, and the ashes made the open wound sting.

“I’m sorry. I should have remembered,” Yongguk whispered, looking horrified. Even though Junhong was disappointed that his first gift for Yongguk had been disintegrated, he knew it wasn’t the elder’s intention. Wordlessly, he pressed a kiss to the corner of Yongguk’s lips, so the god would know he was not angry. Junhong smiled down at him, before turning to look around.

The Underworld was illuminated by lit torches, since it was below where the sun’s rays could reach, and it was comfortably warm. Junhong had never been without some form of natural light, and the fires were so close - he found himself drawn to them immediately.

Before he could get too close, Yongguk held him back.

“You cannot die in the Underworld, but you can still feel pain,” he said, and Junhong’s attention turned from the fire to his lover.

“I cannot die?” the nymph questioned, and Yongguk nodded.

“In the Underworld, people arrive either dead or alive – they cannot die here,” he explained, beginning to walk in the direction of the torches. “Still, it would be wise not to eat anything if you do not want to be here forever.”

Junhong had heard of that rule from his _nymphai_ before – the Underworld’s foods were sacred, and eating them would trap him there, forever. But if he could not die, then not eating would not be a problem, since he could not starve. Besides, he was only staying here for the night.

The nymph hurried beside his lover, his mouth opening when he saw that Yongguk was heading towards a palace.

A real palace.

 _Yongguk’s_ palace.

Junhong had heard stories before, of course. Of the Underworld’s scorching flames that never went out, the constant tortured screaming of sinners that could be heard, and a towering castle on the brink of ruin. Yet, the flames were contained to their torches, Junhong could only hear silence, and the palace was not even close to breaking – it stood tall and proud, just like its king.

“We should both bathe,” Yongguk decided, as they stepped inside, and Junhong’s mouth opened. The entrance was simply a large circular room, but there was a large staircase leading up to the next floor. Even if it was the only staircase he could see, there were other floors – at least _twenty_ – above him.

He was still reeling from shock, that the castle looked so sophisticated, when he had been told all his life that the Underworld was a place of destruction. But he should have known before – Yongguk would obviously not stay somewhere that did not match his regal aura.

“Yongguk!”

Junhong registered a man running down the stairs towards them, and he hid himself behind Yongguk instinctively.

He slowed to a stop in front of them, and Junhong’s eyes widened as he stared at the other. The man was beautiful, with a piercing gaze, plush lips, and cheekbones that _must_ have been sculpted by gods. Junhong did not think he was a god himself, but he exhibited a beauty that far surpassed theirs.

“So _you_ are the nymph who captured Yongguk’s heart,” the man said, the corner of his lips lifting in a teasing grin. “He talked to us endlessly of your beauty and your heart.”

Junhong was speechless. “I-I... But you are so much more beautiful.”

He stared at Yongguk accusingly for not warning him beforehand, and the god laughed, placing his hand on Junhong’s back. Junhong returned to staring at the man. How could Yongguk find _anyone_ attractive, after seeing the person who probably _invented_ beauty?

“I’m Himchan,” he introduced, beaming. Junhong’s gaze finally broke, and he looked at the man next to him, who remained silent.

“He is Jongup,” Himchan introduced the man behind him, holding his arm tightly. Junhong immediately recognised that the two were intimate; but he was surprised to find that the other was definitely a god. He exuded a power that was similar to Yongguk’s, if weaker.

“Jongup is the god of messaging,” Yongguk supplied, when it became obvious that Jongup was not going to speak. “Himchan is my healer, but he was formerly from Atlantis, the land of half-gods.”

“Atlantis!” the nymph exclaimed – he’d thought the island was a myth, a story told to entertain children. A land where gods and humans interacted like equals – with some gods even falling in love with humans and producing offspring.

“It does not exist, anymore, for it sank into the ocean and all of its residents drowned,” Himchan said, his face carefully emotionless. Perhaps it had been millenniums since its disappearance and he was no longer affected, or perhaps he did not want to tell Junhong any details. “I stay here now. Permanently.”

Junhong could not imagine never returning to his home; nothing else filled him with so much fear.

“You... cannot leave?”

“I am like you,” the man answered. “As a semi-mortal, I do not age, but I am still vulnerable to threats. If I remain on the Surface, I would be in more danger than I am here, so I choose not to leave.”

He said it with an air of finality, and Junhong knew better than to ask for details. He couldn’t help but wonder if the man missed the Surface, if he had loved it as much as Junhong loved the forest.

“Himchan, may you look at his leg?” Yongguk asked, gesturing towards the nymph’s wound. Junhong was not standing on it fully, supporting himself on his other leg. The Atlantean peered at it, and a frown appeared on his face at the sight of the ashes.

“He must bathe first, as well. His wound must be clean before I can heal it,” Himchan said, and Yongguk nodded.

“Then we shall bathe together, and you can prepare his room,” the god said, and the other man agreed, pulling Jongup along with him as he flitted to the second level. He was chattering excitedly to his lover as he went up, but Junhong could not hear any response from Jongup.

Yongguk’s words suddenly registered to the nymph, and his eyes widened as he repeated the god’s words, “Bathe together?” Much to Yongguk’s amusement, Junhong blushed prettily, but he did not protest.

“If you do not mind,” Yongguk said. Bathing together would not be an intimate act by any means – it was common practice for siblings, or even friends – but he would be careful not to initiate anything inappropriate. He wanted to make Junhong feel as safe and comfortable as possible in the Underworld.

Junhong nodded, and Yongguk led him towards the springs, which were hidden in a room behind the grand staircase. It would not take long for them to clean up, or for Himchan to heal the nymph’s legs, and he was already making plans to show Junhong around the Underworld, to show him that the stories told on the Surface were lies, and that he had nothing to be afraid of.

Yongguk could only hope Junhong would grow to love the Underworld, perhaps not as much as his forests, but like a second home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this chapter wasn't too long, because the next one is a little longer lol. I'll try to get it uploaded in the next two weeks!
> 
> Please comment what you think of this chapter! I really love reading comments, they honestly make my day and motivate me to write better/quicker :) Or just tell me about it on [tumblr](http://junhng.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/sproutjun)!


	4. Winter 1/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The god’s gaze darkened as he watched Junhong eat the fruit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence. There's a summary [here](http://junhng.tumblr.com/post/167862719691/a-years-worth-winter-14) for anyone who chooses to skip this chapter.

“It’s like magic!” Junhong said in awe, examining his healed leg. There was not a mark in sight, and his skin was as soft as before he was caught in the trap. Across from him, Himchan kneeled back, wiping his forehead tiredly. He gave Junhong a small smile, and the nymph clasped his hands, “I cannot thank you enough.”

“It is my pleasure,” the half-god responded, and Jongup wordlessly laid a hand on his shoulder. He seemed to relax at the action, and Junhong realised that Jongup did not need to say anything for him to feel comfortable; they had a bond that had been developing over thousands of years, a bond that ran so deep Junhong could only dream about it.

“Thank you, Himchan,” Yongguk said. “I will see you later tonight, after I show Junhong the Underworld in its entirety. You should rest.”

“I have many things I want to do, but resting is not one of them,” Himchan said mischievously, intertwining hands with the silent god beside him. He gave Junhong a wink, which made the nymph blush again, before he and Jongup were making their way towards their own room.

“He has a unique character,” Junhong noted to Yongguk, and the lord placed a hand on his back to lead him out of the castle.

“He is often very outspoken, as well, much to my misfortune,” Yongguk said, with a soft sigh. “But he is one of my closest friends.”

“Jongup as well?”

“Indeed,” the god confirmed. “They are the only two who stay in the Underworld with me.”

Junhong wondered if Himchan and Jongup were like Yongguk’s family, since he did not see his siblings very often. From what he had seen so far, Himchan and Yongguk were definitely close, but he did not know much about Jongup yet.

“What does Jongup do?”

“He leads souls to the Underworld after their death, and assists me in guiding them to their destination. Honestly, his importance rivals mine.” He paused, and the corner of his lips lifted, “It is somewhat strange that the god of messaging cannot speak well, but he manages to get the job done.”

Junhong tilted his head.

“I thought he was only silent because of my presence...”

Yongguk looked at him, his smile disappearing. “No, I would not accept it if he were to treat you coldly.” Junhong shivered at the dark tone behind his words, but he knew the god intended well. “He does not mean any harm by staying quiet, I assure you. He only talks comfortably to Himchan, and it took twenty years for them to begin courting in the first place.”

“Twenty years!” Junhong breathed, eyes wide. He could not imagine waiting that long to be with Yongguk. It was difficult to imagine not courting Yongguk within months, let alone decades, with how well they got along. Junhong knew the tension between them would have only grown with time, if they had decided to dance around each other instead of being direct. “I am relieved it did not take us that long,” he said honestly.

The god smiled, as if knowing what he was thinking.

“As am I.”

He stopped walking, and Junhong finally noticed that they had walked away from the castle’s torches, and to the docks of the castle. The castle was surrounded by water, which looked pitch black in the darkness, and seemed to span as far as Junhong’s eyes reached.

They were alone.

“There are three places for the dead,” Yongguk started explaining, but paused to see if Junhong had heard of them before.

“Elysium, Tartarus and the Asphodel Meadows,” the nymph supplied, knowing his lore off by heart, from the endless stories he was told when he was young. Yongguk nodded, feeling proud. Junhong’s eyes lifted from the black water, and flickered to the distance, where he could see the shape of three islands.

“Are those...?”

“Yes,” the god said, carefully watching his reaction. “From your left, it’s Elysium, then Asphodel, then Tartarus.”

Junhong stayed silent as he examined the islands. They were nothing like he had ever imagined.

He had always thought that Elysium, the isle of heroes, would be an ethereal place, where the trees gave jewelled fruit, and the people drank from liquid gold, but other than the castle in the centre of the island, Elysium did not seem so special. Perhaps the story was embellished to be entertaining from a child’s perspective. The castle was huge, and a pristine white, but Yongguk’s black castle seemed more imposing.

Asphodel did not look much different, but there was no castle, and flowers grew from the ground. Trees covered the land, where soft grass was not in place. Even if Asphodel was the field for the ordinary, Junhong thought it looked far more appealing than Elysium.

“Are those who go to Elysium much more privileged than those who go to Asphodel?” Junhong asked suddenly.

“Yes, but not by far,” Yongguk answered. “Asphodel is commonly seen as the land of the average, but that is not true. Good people go to Asphodel, whereas only truly great people go to Elysium.”

He did not talk about Tartarus, but Junhong did not need an explanation. Everyone on the Surface knew that Tartarus was the land of the evil.

Junhong often had nightmares of Tartarus as a young nymph – it was filled with rapists, murderers and abusers, doomed to an eternity of suffering. His _nymphai_ had assured him that he was a good person, but he was always scared of the mere possibility.

“...Do you know where my _nymphai_ are?” Junhong asked quietly.

Yongguk looked at him, before looking out at the islands. “They are in Asphodel... I believe they are happiest there, even if it is no Elysium.”

“I thought so,” Junhong looked out at the island and imagined his _nymphai_ dancing on the grassy plains, together. Safe, and away from the humans who had killed them. It was bittersweet, and Junhong could not help but feel loneliness gnawing at his chest; if they had not shielded him from the humans’ cruelty, surely he would not be with Yongguk now.

“I would like to go there, as well, when I pass,” he said, feeling nostalgic.

“You will never have to,” Yongguk said fiercely. Junhong looked over, his eyes widening at the conviction in the god’s voice. “I will keep you safe.”

“I know, I know,” Junhong smiled, brushing a kiss over Yongguk’s forehead, and again where his eyebrows caused a crease. He could not possibly feel any safer, when it caused Yongguk distress to even _think_ of him dying.

“If we are wed...” Yongguk said quietly, “then you will never have to worry about death, at all. For you will be considered a god, also.”

Junhong had never heard of a semi-mortal marrying a god, but he supposed it would make sense, that they would become immortal. It would only cause pain for a god to marry someone who could die in a fraction of their lifetime.

“Would I have to stay in the Underworld forever?”

“Of course not,” Yongguk said, as if the thought was ridiculous. “All gods have free access to the Surface, and as my betrothed, you would have access to the Underworld and Olympus, like my siblings and I.” His voice trailed off, embarrassed to have talked so much about their marriage, when they had only known each other for a few weeks, and only began courting a few days ago.

Junhong looked at him shyly. He had not known that Yongguk had thought so much about their future together. He felt a warmth blossom from within him, and he blurted,

“I do not think it will be a matter of ‘if’ we are wed, but when.”

Yongguk looked up at him with an expression of surprise, which quickly melted into fondness. Junhong was pulled into his embrace seconds later, and as they stood there with each other in their arms, he had never felt more in love.

 

Yongguk insisted that they returned to the castle after Junhong had begun to tire. He could not stop yawning, and his eyelids were becoming heavy.

“I hope your room will be satisfactory,” Yongguk had told him, as he opened the door to Junhong’s sleeping quarters. In the middle, there was a giant ‘bed’, something Junhong had never slept in before. The nymph had only ever rested in soft grass, or in trees – never in something that resembled this. Still, when he tentatively laid on it, he found that it was as soft as the clouds.

Yongguk watched as he sprawled on it, releasing a soft sigh of pleasure. The bed seemed to curve to his body, and he had never felt more comfortable.

The god smiled, amused at the nymph’s euphoria. “I will come to return you to the Surface, second thing in the morning.”

“Second?”

“I have an appointment with the gods, which I cannot miss,” he explained. “You may sleep for as long as you wish.”

Junhong pulled himself away from the bed, to quickly walk to his lover. He pressed a quick peck to his lips, before stepping back. He looked away shyly, “Good night, my lord.”

“Sleep well, my love,” Yongguk said warmly, before he left, closing the door on his way out.

Junhong could not help the red that bloomed over his cheeks, and he threw himself on the bed, trying to fall asleep quickly. The quicker he slept, the quicker he could see Yongguk again.

Sleep washed over him like the tide, before he was pulled under its waves, sleeping peacefully in the calm and quiet.

 

When he woke, it took while for him to remember where he was. The darkness reminded him of the night on the Surface, although he knew the Underworld was just naturally dark.

He had not slept for so long in years.

The nymph reluctantly moved from the bed and prepared for his day. Yongguk was still probably away in Olympus, but he could bathe before the god returned. If Yongguk took a long time, he could even explore the castle more, or talk to Himchan.

Taking a bath would wake him up, Junhong decided. Still hazy from sleep, he stumbled out of his room, and headed for the grand staircase. So far, he had only seen the bathing springs, his room, and the entrance, and he was curious what else could be in such a towering castle.

He wondered what Yongguk’s room was like, and immediately flushed red.

When Junhong approached the grand staircase, his eyes fell on the person who was waiting at the entrance. A wide smile broke out on his face and he flitted down the stairs, running to embrace Yongguk. The god’s arms wrapped around him immediately, and the nymph beamed down at him.

“I did not think you would be back this early,” he said brightly, and Yongguk’s body tensed. His skin was cooler than Junhong was used to, but he supposed Olympus would have been colder, being in the Skies. He was even wearing Olympus’s white robes, instead of his usual black cloak.

“I wished to rush back to you,” Yongguk spoke, his eyes bearing into Junhong’s for a moment too long. The nymph linked their fingers together.

“Will you bathe with me before we return to the Surface?” he asked hopefully. The smile on Yongguk’s face dropped, and his hold on Junhong’s hand tightened.

“In a moment. I stopped by the Surface when I returned here, when I realised you might be hungry,” he said. His voice lacked any emotion, and Junhong uncomfortably pulled his hand from the tight grasp. Looking unaffected by the nymph’s subtle rejection, Yongguk produced a pomegranate from thin air.

“I hope you do not mind that I took one from your tree,” Yongguk said before splitting the pomegranate in his hands, digging the seeds from its core.

“Of course not!” Junhong murmured, touched that the god had thought to get him food. The nymph knew not to eat food that was sacred to the Underworld, but he could still eat the fruit from the Surface with no repercussions, especially since he had created it. Perhaps Yongguk was acting odd because he was not sure whether he could take fruit from Junhong’s tree.

The god fed his lover silently, his stare never relenting. The nymph shifted nervously after he ate his first seed, but accepted the second mere moments later, still touched that Yongguk had gone through the effort of bringing him food. The seeds tasted more delicious in the Underworld than on the Surface, and they awoken a hunger inside of him that he did not realise he had.

Junhong had bitten down on the third seed, its rich flavour flooding his mouth, when he suddenly realised something that made him freeze. Fear churned in his stomach.

“Lord Yongguk... how come this fruit did not immediately disappear in the Underworld?” he asked slowly, praying that Yongguk had an answer.

To his horror, only a grin split on his lover’s face. But instead of warming him up, like all his smiles before, Yongguk’s grin made Junhong’s blood run cold.

Fruits from the Surface could not survive in the Underworld, Yongguk had told him that yesterday. Only sacred fruits could. And if he had just eaten sacred fruit, then –

“I-I...” he stammered, confusion and fear mixed in his voice. But Yongguk had been so kind, so caring, Junhong had trusted him with his _life._ The betrayal stung, and he took a step back, no longer knowing who he could trust in this unfamiliar castle. Yongguk advanced on him, a predatory smirk on his face. His eyes darkened and he reached out to grab Junhong’s tunic, his fingers twisting into the material and causing the nymph to shake in fear.

“Y-Yongguk, what are you doing?” he trembled.

“Beautiful nymph,” he crooned, pulling Junhong closer to him. “I can understand why Yongguk is so infatuated with you.”

Junhong squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to push the god away – to no avail.

Suddenly, the god’s body slammed into a wall as the sound of footsteps thundered into the entrance. Junhong opened his eyes to see Yongguk held against the wall, struggling against an invisible force.

“Yongnam!” a deep voice roared, and Junhong turned to see _another_ Yongguk stride in, an expression of pure hatred on his face. Realisation dawned on the nymph, and he removed the uneaten pomegranate seed in his mouth, his stomach beginning to churn with sickness. The man who had given him pomegranate seeds was not his lover, but the Lord of the Seas – the only god whom Yongguk did not trust.

Yongnam was unable to be moved as his brother – the _real_ Yongguk – approached him. Yongguk’s veins pulsed with rage, and he delivered a swift punch across Yongnam’s face, one that would have certainly snapped the neck of any mortal man. Before Yongnam could recover from the hit, Yongguk used both of his hands to crush his throat, squeezing with all of his might, as if trying to kill him.

“You bastard!” He shouted, his voice revibrating the castle.

Yongnam’s face was red from the lack of air, but even if Yongguk tried his best, he could not die. Knowing that only made Yongguk angrier, and vicious wind began to slice into Yongnam’s skin as the god focused all of his rage.

“I had to take something from you, like you took something of mine,” Yongnam rasped, and was immediately punched again. Even when he was being beaten, his grin did not fade, and his gaze flickered over to Junhong.

The nymph was watching the fight with tears in his eyes, and he released a small sob when Yongnam looked at him. Yongguk had his hands around Yongnam’s throat, but it felt like he was the one choking. He began to cry as he realised he had abandoned his family – the forests and Youngjae – and he could not keep them safe anymore. At the sound of his lover’s sniffling, Yongguk’s face only became more enraged, and the wind whipped around him at dangerous speeds.

“Junhong does not belong to me, just like how Himchan does not belong to _you_ ,” Yongguk growled, and the _crack_ of Yongnam’s neck snapping filled the room. “I ought to send you to Tartarus, where you will _rot_ for all of eternity.”

“Oh, brother,” the man smirked. “As if Natasha will allow you to do that.”

Yongguk broke his nose with the next hit.

It brought him great satisfaction that even if he could not kill his brother, Yongnam would feel the excruciating pain that would make any man wish for death. Yet, throughout the hits, his leer never left his face. In fact, with every broken bone, his eyes only darkened.

“I would have _ruined_ him,” he said slowly, his eyes flickering from Junhong’s and back to Yongguk. He licked his lips, making Junhong stifle another sob, and Yongguk released a strangled growl. Suddenly, the force holding Yongnam against the wall disappeared, and he fell to his knees, on the floor. He looked up at Yongguk with a triumphant grin, before his entire body twisted unnaturally, his back arching until each of his bones cracked. He released a strangled yell, but Yongguk did not stop.

Junhong felt a hand curl gently around his own, and he realised that sometime during the fight, Himchan had come downstairs. The Atlantean tried to guide him away from the scene, only to be met with reluctance. “Come with me,” he said quietly, “a pure nymph should not witness such violence.”

Through his tears, Junhong followed him. He was shuddering large ugly breaths, his entire body shaking, but he was slightly comforted by the warm hand Himchan placed on his shoulder.

“Himchan, my love,” Yongnam called, when they had reached the top of the staircase, just loud enough for the Atlantean to hear. He was breathing heavily, unable to defend himself from Yongguk in the Underworld. “Come back with me. The Oceans still call your name.”

He looked broken, calling for the half-god.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Himchan brought Junhong away, and towards his own room which he shared with Jongup. He ignored every one of Yongnam’s pleads coldly, and allowed him to suffer under Yongguk’s hand.

“Do not fear,” the Atlantean told the nymph, as he closed the door. “Yongguk will do everything in his power to ensure that you will not remain here.”

As much as Junhong trusted Yongguk, he knew there was nothing to be done. Eating sacred food from the Underworld meant you were kept there for all of eternity – he knew the stories.

“Why did Yongnam do this?” the nymph said quietly, his voice trembling. “I have done nothing to him.” He did not even know that Yongguk and Yongnam were twins before today. Yet, Yongnam seemed to know so much about him already; that he was in a relationship with Yongguk, and that he created pomegranates. The nymph shuddered, realising that the Lord of the Seas had been probably watching him for the past few weeks.

His fingers in Junhong’s shirt, his face with the dark leer. Junhong had no doubts that if Yongguk had not arrived sooner, Yongnam would have taken something else of Junhong’s.

Himchan looked at Junhong and sighed.

“It is my fault.”

Junhong looked up at him. Had he told Yongnam about their relationship?

“Yongnam and I have a bad history,” the Atlantean said shortly. “It is quite a long story, but I do not mind telling it to you, if you wish.”

Junhong said nothing, unsure of whether he could trust Himchan now. The man sighed at his silence, sitting down next to him on the bed. He still maintained a respectful distance, but Junhong was staring at him with a distrustful gaze.

“I would like to know,” the nymph said, after a moment’s pause. He did not think he could hate Himchan more than he hated Yongnam.

“When I grew up in Atlantis, I was quite well-known for my looks,” Himchan began. “I know it is not modest to say so, but even some gods were envious of my beauty. They often invited me to their events to stare at me, and I could not refuse.”

He fidgeted uncomfortably. Junhong could understand his dislike of being treated like an object – the thought of thousands staring at him for hours made his skin crawl.

“It was at an event where I met Yongnam and Natasha,” Himchan continued. “Yongguk does not lie when he says that his brother is greedy. Yongnam took one look at me, and asked for my hand in marriage.

Of course, I rejected him,” Himchan added hastily. He did not want Junhong to jump to conclusions. “I would be mocked if I married someone I did not even know, and besides... I already had someone else whom I had my eye on.”

That must have been Jongup. The nymph waited for the half-god to explain how they had met, but instead, Himchan continued on.

“The Lord of the Seas did not take the rejection well... He was enraged that some mere half-mortal had the audacity to reject him.” Himchan’s eyes lowered, and when he spoke next, Junhong shuddered at the pain in his voice. “He sunk my village into the seas and told me to reconsider his offer.”

Junhong’s eyes widened, horrified. To kill thousands of people because one person did not fall to your feet was ridiculous.

“You ran away,” the nymph guessed.

“Jongup rescued me,” Himchan corrected, and smiled sadly. “He knew I would be safest here, where I cannot die, and Yongnam cannot force me to leave. But if Yongnam could not have me, I suppose he wished to take away Yongguk’s only joy.” Himchan looked at Junhong, eyes softening when he saw the nymph’s tear tracks on his cheeks. “Young nymph, Yongguk loves you far too much. He will not keep you here forever.”

“I hope not,” Junhong said softly, looking down at his lap. “I have a friend on the Surface, and a forest to care for.” Thinking about them again made his will not to cry weaken, but he clenched his fists. He had cried enough tears, and would not cry anymore.

“I promise you will return to them,” Himchan said sincerely. There was no hint of a lie in his voice. “The Sky Goddess always arrives after Yongnam and Yongguk have had an argument. I am sure she will be on Yongguk’s side, in this argument.”

Hope filled Junhong’s chest. The Sky Goddess was powerful, and fair – she would surely allow him to return to the Surface in mere hours.

“When will she arrive?” he asked eagerly.

“Soon, young nymph. I will not lie, I will enjoy every moment she is not here, for Yongnam is being beaten like he deserves.” Himchan smiled. They could both still hear the sounds of Yongnam grunting in pain below. “Unfortunately, his pain is only temporary, since he will heal as soon as he returns to Olympus, but it is still a small victory.”

Junhong looked down, not wanting to admit aloud that he felt the same. It felt wrong to harbor such negative thoughts towards anyone, let alone his lover’s relative. “May I ask a question?”

“Is it something you cannot ask Yongguk?” Himchan asked. “If it is, I cannot guarantee an answer.”

“No, it is a question I only just thought of,” Junhong assured him, and the half-god nodded at him to continue.

“May gods enter Asphodel?” the nymph asked curiously. The innocent hope in his voice was overwhelming. “I heard that it was possible for gods to enter Tartarus, so... I would like to hear from my _nymphai_ again, even if it is a message passed through someone else.”

Himchan saw how hopeful he looked, and it hurt him to tell the truth.

“Gods cannot enter Asphodel or Elysium,” he watched as the hopeful expression on Junhong’s face crumbled, and the nymph looked down at his hands. “We are forbidden from every island, except for one. Tartarus is an awful place, where gods and humans alike can be banished, but the Asphodel and Elysium are reserved for only the dead.”

“I will tell you now, Junhong,” the Atlantean said. “Almost all tales and lore about the Underworld are lies. But every story you have ever heard about Tartarus does not even come close to the horrors that the island is capable of.”

“Lord Yongguk rules it, correct?” Junhong tilted his head. For a moment, Himchan wondered how the God of Death had such an adorable nymph as his lover.

“He does. And Yongguk is capable of many horrible things as well,” the Atlantean said honestly. “But he is fair and impartial, and he will never inflict pain on anyone unless they deserve it. Especially not you.”

“I trust him,” Junhong said quietly. “He is not a bad person.”

“He is not,” Himchan agreed. “His bad reputation is caused from Yongnam, mostly.”

“Because they look similar?” the nymph guessed.

“Indeed. Yongnam will most likely return to Olympus and tell all the gods that Yongguk kidnapped you and trapped you here himself.” Junhong’s expression contorted into one of outrage, and Himchan continued. “Yongguk will not do anything to stop it. He does not care what others think of him, even if they are baseless lies.”

Junhong stayed silent, but every part of him protested the injustice. Yongguk was so impossibly kind, and yet his name was tainted by his brother – someone who was supposed to be his family.

He was so deep in thought, that he did not realise that the fighting stopped below them. Himchan was more alert, his body tense as he tried to listen in. His face relaxed moments later, and he stood, offering a hand to the nymph.

“Come, the Sky Goddess has arrived.”

 

When Junhong descended the stairs, he was not expecting to see the goddess looking enraged, Yongguk standing with his arms crossed and Yongnam crumpled on the floor. Jongup had arrived as well, standing in a corner silently.

“Natasha,” Himchan said, announcing his entrance. Junhong followed him from behind, looking nervous. His eyes immediately sought out Yongguk, and he was relieved to see that the man was unharmed. Yongguk was still seething at his brother, but he seemed to relax when he saw his lover safe, and no longer crying.

“Himchan,” Natasha said, nodding in acknowledgement, and Himchan moved to be close to his lover, his hands immediately wrapping around Jongup’s waist. Yongnam’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the two, but neither of them could care.

Natasha’s gaze moved to Junhong, and she strode over, clasping his hand in hers. “You must be Junhong.”

“Yes, um, my lady,” he said nervously, eyes flickering to Yongguk. He was afraid to make a bad impression on the sibling that his lover actually liked.

“From you, Natasha is fine,” she said warmly. Junhong admitted that even though she was intimidating, he felt naturally charmed by her. “Yongguk has told me so much about you. I was hoping that we would meet in _better_ circumstances.” She said the words with venom directed at her brother who was currently sprawled on the floor.

Junhong allowed himself to look at Yongnam for a second. He had never seen a god in such a disgraced position, but he felt a burst of satisfaction from it. Yongnam was no longer leering at him, but scowling, as if it was _Junhong’s_ fault he was here.

“I don’t regret it,” Yongnam announced and Yongguk hissed at him.

“Do not worry, young nymph,” Natasha said kindly, ignoring her brothers. “Tell me, how many seeds did you eat?”

Junhong was not sure why it mattered, but he answered truthfully. “Two.”

“Three.” Yongnam interjected, before his sister could say anymore. Yongguk’s head snapped to Yongnam, and he glared. The Lord of the Seas smirked. “He bit a third.”

The goddess’s eyes flicked. “Is this true?”

“Y-Yes... But I did not eat it,” Junhong said, blinking when Natasha sighed, a frown pulling at the corners of her lips. Yongguk delivered a sharp kick to his brother’s side, spitting out a litany of curses.

“I am sorry, Junhong, but that means you must stay in the Underworld for three months of the year,” Natasha said, and Junhong’s eyes widened.

“Three months?” Yongguk asked, enraged. “You are the Goddess of the Gods, and you cannot shorten three whole months?”

“Yongguk...” Natasha started.

“No,” the man growled. “You can do better than that.”

“I cannot, Yongguk,” the woman said patiently, no fear on her face even when Yongguk’s expression darkened. “It is beyond my capabilities.”

“Bullshit,” Yongguk snapped, and Junhong’s eyes widened. He had never heard the god sound so angry.

“Calm yourself, Yongguk,” Natasha ordered, crossing her arms elegantly. “You will receive justice. Yongnam will return with me to Olympus, and will not return here without your expressed permission, unless he truly wishes to be banished to Tartarus.”

“Why would I want to return to this hell anyway?” Yongnam sneered, and Yongguk’s anger flared again. Before he could try and beat some manners into his brother, the Lord of the Seas disappeared in smoke, no doubt fleeing to Olympus.

“You cannot stop me from seeking vengeance, sister,” Yongguk didn’t turn to face Natasha even as he spoke, fists clenched by his sides. He spared a glance towards Junhong, eyes hardening when he saw his love’s bottom lip trembling and the remains of tear tracks down his face.

“I’ll be back,” he muttered a promise.

“Yongguk, don’t you dare –” Natasha began her threat, but the God of Death was gone.

Junhong was left staring at the hard stone floor, where Yongguk disappeared.

The Sky Goddess sighed, and turned to Junhong. “I must leave as well, to ensure they do not start a war in the Skies. Last time that happened, the Surface froze over for centuries.”

Junhong thought she was joking, but she only looked grim.

“It was a pity we met such an unfortunate situation, but I hope you enjoy your stay here,” she said finally, squeezing his shoulder.

“I will,” he said, mostly out of politeness. She gave him a sad smile, before she too disappeared in smoke, following her brothers into the Skies.


	5. Winter 2/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Youngjae had never seen anyone look more serious than Yongguk when he spoke, “I promise I will always protect him. Junhong will never be hurt like this again.”
> 
> The human smiled, knowing that the god spoke the truth. “You deserve him more than anyone I know.”
> 
> Yongguk nodded, but he did not return his smile. Instead, he looked woeful.
> 
> “He is still too good for me.”

“Do you often get bored?” Junhong asked Himchan, as they sat on the grand staircase. Junhong still had yet to explore the castle, but no one had offered to show him around.

The Atlantean had his head rested on Jongup’s shoulder, but he perked up at Junhong’s question.

“Not often,” the half-god replied, and a mischievous smirk played on his lips as he caressed his lover’s face. “Jongup and I tend to keep each other entertained.”

It did not take long for the innocent nymph to understand the true meaning of his words and he blushed hotly. Himchan grinned widely, and Junhong tried to elaborate, even though his face felt like it was on fire, “I mean... what if Jongup is away?”

“Well, I read the records,” Himchan said, and looked at Junhong, who was staring at him in confusion. “Have you not seen them yet?”

“What records?” the nymph blinked as the half-god stood up, gesturing for him to follow as he ascended the stairs. Jongup was behind him in an instant, never too far away from his lover.

Himchan was beginning to walk at a quick pace, and Junhong hurried to follow him. He was curious, but also nervous – maybe there was a reason why Yongguk had not shown him around properly.

“Yongguk keeps records of everyone who has ever died. Their life stories are all kept in the castle’s library,” the Atlantean explained. He walked through the hallways of the castle with ease, turning around a corner which unveiled another flight of stairs. The stairs seemed to wind towards the next floor, and he ascended them again.

Junhong had not known there were other staircases, let alone a library. To his surprise, they winded past the third floor, and higher, towards a fourth and fifth level. He did not know if they went any higher, for Himchan gestured for him to follow him through the large double doors on the fourth floor.

“Be prepared,” the half-god said, but before Junhong could wonder what for, he pushed the doors open, showing shelves for as far as Junhong could see. He could not even see the end of the room, and he stared at Himchan in bewilderment.

“The shelves are filled with records,” Himchan explained loftily. “Millions of people die each year, so the room expands to accommodate that.”

“...It’s magic?” Junhong asked in amazement.

“Correct. Both the room and the books are enchanted,” Himchan smiled at the nymph’s wonder. “Go ahead and look around, little one. Everything is well-organised, so you should be able to find one, if you’re looking specifically.”

Junhong hesitated, before murmuring in embarrassment, “But I cannot read.”

“That is not an issue. You do not have to know how to read text to be able to read these records,” Himchan said, walking to the nearest shelf and picking a book. Jongup also took one, and Junhong could see how comfortable the both of them were in this gigantic library, as if they spent hours here together, reading. “They are enchanted; you just have to find one you would like to view, and see for yourself.”

Junhong could not hide his confusion, nor his curiosity, but he scurried off into the depths of the shelves without a word. They towered around him, and he felt comforted – it was as if he was back in his forest, and these were his trees.

“The shelves are magic!” Himchan yelled, like a reminder, and Junhong paused. He stepped towards the nearest shelf, remembering how Himchan had just taken the closest book he could find and started reading it.

Perhaps the records were only organised based on who was reading.

His arm stretched out, and his fingers uncurled, brushing against the hard book covers.

He saw Junseo.

He saw Junseo’s face in almost-painful detail, and how they would laugh and joke together with their parents late at night. He saw himself as a tiny six year old, waddling around the meadows and accidentally creating flowers everywhere he touched, covering the meadow’s grass with thousands of colours. He saw his mother lifting him up and kissing his head, as Junseo – a few hundred years older than him and already fully-grown – made fruit for the whole family.

Junhong ripped his hand back and stared at his fingers, before he grasped the book with raw desperation. The book was blank, its pages were empty – and yet... Junhong had understood everything.

“Do you see why reading is no longer necessary?” Himchan asked, appearing behind the nymph.

Junhong nodded slowly, speechless.

Mere seconds later, Himchan’s hand reached out to squeeze his shoulder in an act of comfort, after seeing the tears that sprung into Junhong’s eyes. “When the records are enchanted, we are allowed to see within the mind of the person we are reading about.” He ran a hand over his own book’s cover. “This way, we can see the world through their eyes.”

Junhong looked down at the book in his hands. He was gripping it tightly, afraid to let go of it. Afraid to let go of Junseo.

“This is my brother’s record,” he said, his voice trembling. “I have not seen his face in centuries.”

“You will never have to worry about that again,” Himchan promised, his heart aching as he saw the nymph take a shaky breath. After the death of his people, the Atlantean had received closure by reading about their lives, so he could properly apologise to them individually. It had taken hundreds of years, but Jongup had convinced him that it wasn’t his fault that they died, and none of them would have blamed him.

From the raw emotion on Junhong’s face, Himchan knew he needed the time and space to read. “I will leave you alone now, but I will be on the other side of the room if you need me.”

Junhong nodded, quiet, as Himchan disappeared into the shelves. He had free access to _enchanted_ books which recalled the lives of all mortal beings. He could not imagine the power Yongguk had, just by owning these.

Junhong sat against a shelf, opened the book in his lap, and began to read his brother’s life.

 

Daehyun watched as Youngjae closed the door of his hut quietly, and walked towards the village centre. The sun was low in the sky, and this was the _third_ time he had seen the boy sneak out today – surely, he was up to something.

Daehyun could not help it; he always had a soft spot for Youngjae, ever since they were young. He knew Youngjae enjoyed going into the forest a few times a week, but he never followed him. The younger male needed space and privacy to think – Daehyun did not want to disturb him during those times.

But lately, he had been getting suspicious. Every time Youngjae returned, he was holding something new – a gift. They were either flowers, fruit, or beautiful crowns, crafted with master precision to rest in Youngjae’s hair without flattening its softness. Even if Daehyun had been disappointed that Youngjae had gotten a suitor so soon – that the younger couldn’t receive consolation from _him_ , and had to find someone from the next village – he could not complain. After all, if Youngjae was happy, Daehyun did not think he had the right to ask for more.

But then a few days ago, only just before the bachelor’s festival, Youngjae had said he was uncourted. _Uncourted_! Even with flowers and fruit in his hands, he had said so. At the time, Daehyun did not know if the boy was telling the truth, but his heart soared with hope.

Hours after their conversation, Youngjae appeared at the festival, even though stood in the corner the entire time. Daehyun couldn’t approach him, too occupied in conversation with some other villagers, but Youngjae looked bored and lonely. How he wished Youngjae would approach him instead, and talk to him like they were childhood friends.

If he did not have a suitor, Daehyun was not sure why Youngjae needed to go to the forest three times a day. And now, knowing that he had a chance to court Youngjae – he was too curious.

Without a word, Daehyun slipped out of his hut and followed the younger boy as he walked towards the village edge, and further into the forest. Youngjae looked worried, and his pace was quickening, his feet crunching on the fallen, bronze leaves.

He hesitated, unsure if he should follow.

“Jung Daehyun! You better not be following your brother.”

In the forest, Youngjae’s figure was quickly disappearing, and Daehyun heaved a loud sigh, knowing that his chance was gone. He turned around, only to face his enraged father.

“I wasn’t following Sanghyun,” he said, unable to hide the frustration in his voice.

“Good. It’s _his_ hunting team, not yours,” the village elder sneered, and Daehyun sighed again. He never even hunted – there was nothing to hunt _for_.

“Yes, father.” He looked into the forest again, wishing that he followed Youngjae. The forest was dark, but the younger boy knew his way around.

The man in front of him narrowed his eyes at his son’s wistful expression. “Come with me. You ought to socialise with the villagers if you want to be like your brother in a few years.”

Daehyun swallowed a groan and stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He’d rather be anyone _but_ Sanghyun – his cocky and arrogant older brother, who didn’t have one good trait in his body. Even now, when he was courting one of the nicest women from the village, he did not stop his flirtatious ways and only greeted her with rudeness and ungratefulness.

Daehyun did not know how his father, the village leader, even allowed Sanghyun to act the way he did, but his actions were encouraged, whereas Daehyun’s were looked down on. The second brother wasn’t good at hunting, or appealing to the villagers, or even helping around with festivities. He knew his father watched him with disappointment, and the villagers looked at him as the second child who had grown up with years of neglect.

The only one who had ever looked at him normally was Youngjae.

As Daehyun’s father led him back to the village, he cast a wistful look at the forest where Youngjae had disappeared. He swallowed determinedly, and promised himself that he would follow the younger boy next time he left.

 

Youngjae felt the hairs on his skin stand as he walked through the forest. The hunting group could run into him at any moment, and he would not have an excuse for why he was out in the forests, all alone.

But he would not mind being questioned, as long as he found Junhong. Yongguk had promised to bring him back in the morning, and yet, the sun was already setting and he had not heard from the nymph.

Youngjae played with his bottom lip between his teeth and hopped over a tree root in his haste to get to the meadow. Even the thought of Junhong leaving him was enough for his pace to quicken, and he was soon running towards the grassy field.

“Junhong!” he called, whipping his head around. He could only see the fruit tree in the middle of the meadow, and the trail of flowers around it. “Where are you?!”

He took a shaky breath when he received no reply, and immediately started thinking of the worst. Could people die in the Underworld? Had Yongguk taken him and refused to let him free? Youngjae clenched his fists, all of his anxiety bleeding into his shout, “Junhong!”

“Youngjae.”

The human stifled a yell and turned around, glaring at the source of the voice. He released a sigh when he saw that it was only Yongguk, but his heart seized again when he didn’t see Junhong.

Youngjae tried not to jump to conclusions – accusing the God of Death of murder would be an incredibly unwise action. Instead, he tried to keep his tone as innocent as possible when he asked, “Is Junhong coming back soon?”

His heart sunk when Yongguk flinched at his words.

“Youngjae...” the god murmured, his eyes on the ground. He could see the intertwined “The Underworld has forbidden Junhong from leaving for three months of each year, after my brother gave him sacred fruit.”

Youngjae’s blood ran cold.

“Junhong would not do that,” he said, eyes untrusting. “He knows the rules of the Underworld.”

“He trusted me,” Yongguk said. “My brother and I look identical, so he thought...”

“... He would not have trusted you that much,” Youngjae muttered, but his resolve was weakening. Junhong was naive, and truly in love with Yongguk...

“My brother brought a pomegranate to Olympus, where it was blessed by Haseul, the harvest goddess,” Yongguk started, but his voice died down. Youngjae simply stared at him.

“Since Junhong recognised the fruit, he thought it was safe,” he said finally. “I know you do not believe me, Youngjae, but I love Junhong more than anyone, and I would never hurt him like this.”

Even if Youngjae did not want to trust him, he could hear the conviction in the god’s voice, and see that he was telling the truth. He swallowed down his fear of being alone for three months, and spoke shakily, “You have planned revenge, right?”

“Of course,” Yongguk said. “You may not notice, but tomorrow it will be significantly cooler than it is today, and the day after that will be even colder. Snow will fall from the sky, and the lakes will freeze over.” A small smile formed on his lips, “My sister and I have planned for this to happen. It is only the first part of my revenge.

“Yongnam loves people visiting his home, the Seas,” Yongguk continued. “He welcomes visitors, and creates all sorts of underwater creatures for their entertainment. In the extreme cold, nobody will want to enter the Seas, and he will be deprived of human contact for the three months he has kept my love in the Underworld. Furthermore, humans will blame him for the lakes freezing over, and their inability to collect water. He will be hated by all, as he deserves.”

Youngjae’s eyes were already wide at his elaborate plan, but they grew even wider when he realised the meaning of Yongguk’s words. “But we humans will thirst until we die.”

“You may melt snow for water,” Yongguk said. “For drinking purposes. I would not be so cruel as to murder a race which has done nothing to deserve it.”

“Will other animals know how to survive?” Youngjae asked. He knew the animals of the forest would be Junhong’s first priority

“They have been told to go into hibernation, and will hide from the cold for three months, leaving your people to starve. But do not fret – you may still catch the fish from the Seas. In fact, I urge your people to do so. If humans rely solely on fish, my brother will be forced to create more and more, until he is exhausted.”

Youngjae’s jaw dropped at how well-thought-out Yongguk’s plan was. He had no idea that something as simple as making the Surface colder would have so many effects on the God of the Seas.

“It will be cold, so please look after yourself,” Yongguk said finally, and a blanket appeared in his hands. “This carries warmth from the Underworld. I hope it will suffice in this winter’s cold.”

He placed it in Youngjae’s hands, and then bowed low.

“I’m truly sorry for my brother’s actions. I know how much Junhong means to you.”

Youngjae flushed red and shook his head, flustered. He couldn’t believe the Lord of the Underworld was bowing to _him_. “No, no, Lord Yongguk, you don’t have to...”

He couldn’t even finish – this was unbelievable.

Yongguk soon straightened, and carried on as if he had never lowered himself to a human. “If you have any questions, please, don’t hesitate to ask. I will send my messenger here at noon on the first day of every week, in case you wish for anything,” he said generously. Looking at him, Youngjae could not believe he had ever been afraid of the god. Now he could see what Junhong loved about him; like a true leader, Yongguk held himself proud, but knew when he had to remain humble. Youngjae’s mouth was wide with admiration, but when Yongguk began staring at him, he blinked back into consciousness.

“Thank you for looking after Junhong,” the human said honestly, clutching the blanket to his chest. It felt warm in his fingers, and soft to hold.

“Of course,” Yongguk replied solemnly. Youngjae had never seen anyone look more serious than the god as he spoke. “I promise I will always protect him. Junhong will never be hurt like this again.”

Youngjae smiled, knowing that the god spoke the truth. “You deserve him more than anyone I know.”

Yongguk nodded, but he did not return his smile. Instead, he looked woeful.

“He is still too good for me.”

 

Yongguk bid Youngjae goodbye after assuring him that Jongup would come by every week with updates on how Junhong was faring in the Underworld. The boy didn’t care for Yongguk’s offers of more food and more clothes, telling the god stubbornly that he could support himself. Youngjae was extremely loyal to his best friend, which was a trait that Yongguk greatly admired.

Now, Yongguk only hoped that Junhong was not angry with him. He left the Underworld without saying a word, which was both careless and selfish. Even if Himchan and Jongup were trustworthy, Yongguk knew Junhong had a timid character, and would not warm up to them so quickly. Leaving him alone with them was a thoughtless action, one that a true god would not have taken – Yongguk was ashamed remembering it.

The god frowned when he walked into his castle and found the entrance empty.

He did not know what he was expecting, but the thought of Junhong being so angry with him that he didn’t want to greet him made his stomach sink. A thousand apologies were running through his mind, but they did not matter if Junhong didn’t want to see him.

His eyes lifted when he sensed the air around him shift, and Jongup apparated at the top of the grand staircase. He looked as calm and composed as ever, resting his elbows on the banister as he gazed upon Yongguk, as if waiting for him to say something. As far as Yongguk knew, the messenger never spoke unless directly asked a question. Even then, he would often respond with nods, or other gestures.

“Where is Junhong?”

Jongup’s eyes lifted to the ceiling.

Yongguk’s skin went cold with dread.

“The library?” he murmured, but did not wait for an answer. The god disapparated to the library, his heart pounding in his chest. He had no doubt what Junhong’s first book would be about, and whilst he did not want to hide the nymph away from the Underworld’s records, he was hoping to first ease him into it.

Yongguk hadn’t read Junseo’s records yet, out of respect, but he did not want Junhong to find something that would upset him. The god did not doubt that the nymph’s brother was a good person, but he also knew that everyone had secrets they did not wish to share.

When he appeared in the library’s entrance, he immediately registered quiet sniffling and rushed past Himchan, who was curled up on a cushioned chair taking a nap, to search through the shelves. The room was endless, and continued expanding as he tried to find the crying nymph, following the source of the sound.

He slowed to a stop as soon as he saw Junhong, lying on the floor of the library. His hand was resting on the pages of an open book, his body hunched over. Yongguk couldn’t see his face, but his entire body was shuddering.

The god kneeled on the floor and reached out to touch the nymph’s shoulder, gently waking him from his trance. Junhong’s eyes fluttered open, and he stared at Yongguk before immediately burying into the god’s warmth, wrapping his arms around Yongguk’s middle and hiding his face in his neck.

“J-Junseo,” he sobbed, his tears burning hot against Yongguk’s skin.

The god held him tightly, murmuring quiet words into his ear to try to calm him down. His hand came up to caress his hair, pressing a small kiss to his ear.

“H-He didn’t deserve w-what she did to him,” Junhong stuttered, looking back at the book’s blank pages. When he looked back at Yongguk, the god could see how shaken he was. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were rimmed red. The nymph immediately hid his face into his neck again, as if embarrassed to be seen. “She seduced him, a-and he believed she wouldn’t hurt him.”

“Who was she?” Yongguk asked. The nymph’s arms tightened around him, and he spoke into his shoulder.

“A human from the village. Her name was _Yejin_ ,” Junhong spat, with a tone of disgust. Yongguk had never heard Junhong speak anyone’s name with as much malice as he spoke hers. The god wished he could see the nymph’s face as he hiccupped, his body still shaking. The boy quietened, suddenly remembering what he had read, and he began trembling again. “Sh-She told him she would run away f-from the village, so they could live together, b-but she lied. Sh-She killed him.”

“Oh, sweetling,” Yongguk whispered softly, feeling his heart pull when Junhong clung to him tighter. “I’m sorry.” He knew Junhong would not receive any comfort knowing that the woman was definitely enduring punishment in Tartarus because of her crime, so he kept quiet, tracing patterns into the nymph’s skin for comfort.

“He loved her so much,” the boy whimpered. “But he never told me.”

Yongguk looked down at the young nymph in his arms, now understanding why he was so upset. Not only was Junhong angry that his brother was betrayed by someone he trusted, he also felt betrayed for never knowing who killed him. Junhong had been close to Junseo after the death of his parents when he was barely ten years old, and Junseo was murdered when he was much older – almost four hundred.

Junhong had not moved from his position, still hiding his face in Yongguk’s neck. All of his words were muffled, but the boy was clearly shaken.

“He loved you the most,” Yongguk said quietly. “Even if Junseo thought Yejin was the love of his life, he did not trust her as much as he loved you. If she found out about you, she would have killed you as well.”

The nymph in his lap shook his head in denial, as he hiccupped.

Yongguk knew Junhong may not have wanted to hear the truth, but as a god, he was used to being as objective as he could be. “He only wanted to protect you, Junhong.”

“I wasn’t a child!” the nymph cried. “I would have been able to protect myself!”

“He would not have wanted to take chances on your life, my love,” Yongguk was gentle, his voice as deep as always, but as soft as a feather. The nymph stayed silent, and suddenly slumped against him, all of his will to fight leaving his body. He brought his hands up to dry his eyes, still not looking at the god.

“I miss him, Yongguk,” the nymph confessed tiredly, finally lifting his face from the man’s shoulder. His face was flushed, and stained with tears. When Yongguk leaned in to give him a brief kiss, he tasted the salt on his lips.

“I know,” the god murmured. He held him tightly, not knowing what else he could do.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO SORRY for the lack of update for almost three weeks!! honestly this was meant to be uploaded on wednesday but i forgot to because i had to catch a flight and now im in japan without access to my laptop most of the time and im dying
> 
> this is also not proofread whoops
> 
> if you dont hate me yet, feel free to comment! :D


	6. Winter 3/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Yongguk tried to find something that would keep Junhong entertained in the Underworld, Daehyun found out something very interesting about Youngjae.

After his first reading, Junhong slowly became comfortable in the library as the weeks passed in the Underworld. He had read through his mother’s and father’s lives in the safety and comfort of Yongguk’s arms, with the god waking him from his trance whenever he became too immersed in the story and would begin whimpering, trembling or murmuring in panic. Yongguk knew that Junhong needed to read his parents’ records – they had passed away when he was only a teenager – and would hold the nymph until he was ready to read again.

One day, Junhong was sitting on Yongguk’s lap, both of them tucked into a large cushioned chair, when he suddenly had a realisation. He placed the book he was about to read on the table next to them and tilted his head to look at his lover. Yongguk’s eyes were adoring when he looked back at him, his expression uncharacteristically soft for a god of death.

“Do you not get bored, watching me read?” the nymph asked in a small voice.

The god chuckled, and lifted his head to kiss Junhong. “I could never.”

The nymph settled his arms around the god’s neck so he could press their chests even closer together and kiss his jaw. Yongguk had learnt over the past month that Junhong craved touch whenever he felt comfortable, and he welcomed it. Sometimes it was difficult to tell who wanted to hold the other more.

“Would you like to read?” The nymph asked. He blinked innocently. “Or perhaps we should do something different today?”

Yongguk gazed upon his lover on his lap, glad to see that he was in a happy mood. Sometimes it was obvious that he missed his forest, although the nymph had avoided the topic completely for the past month. Yongguk knew that Junhong wasn’t talking about the Surface out of politeness, and it stung. He wished that Junhong was comfortable telling him that he missed his forest. He wished he could make the Underworld better for him, somehow. There were not many activities to do in the Underworld, though, and he knew Junhong would be far more entertained on the Surface.

“Would you like to meet some of Olympus’s gods and goddesses?” the god suggested, watching his lover’s reaction carefully. Junhong’s eyebrows pulled together, and he nodded slowly, silently asking the god to continue. “We could invite them here.”

“To the Underworld?” Junhong questioned. His eyes lit up, “Like a party?”

Yongguk was thinking more of a dinner, but he wouldn’t deny Junhong of anything he wanted, especially if he had to spend the next two months somewhere he didn’t want to be.

“A party,” Yongguk agreed, watching Junhong smile widely and clasp his hands together.

“Thank you, my lord!” he said cheerfully, and Yongguk tried not to think of the amount of organisation that would have to go into a party in the Underworld. Only his siblings and Jongup were allowed free access in the Underworld – and Yongnam was _definitely_ not invited. Getting all the gods and goddesses into the castle would be difficult…

Perhaps he could let Himchan handle all the planning.

 

It was a freezing Sunday morning when Daehyun was woken up by conversation between Sanghyun and his father. The sun had not yet risen, leaving the small hut in darkness. Like all the other huts in the village, Daehyun’s house was only had a large one-room space, so he was rarely given privacy, or any quiet.

“We must have angered the gods somehow,” his father was saying to Sanghyun, pacing up and down.

“We have done nothing to anger them,” his older brother replied coolly, crossing his arms. His eyes were narrowed, piercing and cold. “We cannot make them an offering if there is nothing to _offer_ , father.”

“I did not say anything about making an offering,” the older man replied. “We simply have to fix this problem. The villagers are all watching us, to see if we can solve this issue, and we will be scoffed at if we can’t.”

Daehyun watched them sleepily from the bed, covered in a thick quilt but still shivering. He had fallen victim to the extreme cold in the middle of last week; his body was wracked with intense shivers, he sneezed after every word, and his voice was barely a voice at all.

He curled into the blankets, wishing he could block out the noise. He sneezed once, and the conversation between his older brother and his father immediately hushed. They stared at him from the other side of the room, and he lifted the blanket over his head, hiding himself from them. He closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep, only to pick out quiet whispering as soon as he was comfortable.

“The _runt_ has already fallen ill. The villagers will see it as a sign of weakness for our family if he does not attend the meeting this week,” his brother hissed.

“He will get better eventually, Sanghyun. The villagers will not care; he offers no real contribution anyway,” the lower voice of his father spoke with distaste. An ugly, dark emotion flared in Daehyun’s stomach, and he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping they would leave quickly, without disturbing him.

Ever since the winter began, the village held a weekly meeting to figure out how they were going to survive. They had little supplies left from before the cold, and they were quickly running out. No one could find any animals in the forest. The meetings were held on the Sunday of every week, and started when the sun rose, finishing at midday.

In the three meetings Daehyun had gone to, he had fallen asleep listening to his father try and control everyone else’s supplies, and his brother insisting that men deserved food more than women, for ‘contributing more to the survival of the entire village.’ Daehyun was too scared to argue with his brother in front of everyone who idolised him, but he was certain everyone would have died within the first week, if not for one of the elder ladies discovering that snow could be boiled into water. There was not much he could say though, since all the men agreed with Sanghyun, and the decision was made.

He was just glad he didn’t have to attend the meeting this week, even if he was deathly ill.

Daehyun didn’t know how much time passed, staying underneath the quilt, but when he registered the door shut, he immediately sat up. He got out of bed and shuffled over to where Sanghyun had boiled snow that morning, pouring himself a drink.

His quilt was still wrapped around himself as he drank, and he moved over to the window, peering outside. Snow was falling on the ground, covering up the fresh tracks leading out of the houses. He couldn’t see any footprints leading out of Youngjae’s hut yet, so he sat by the window and waited.

Over the past few weeks, he had noticed that Youngjae was the only one who did not attend the weekly meetings. He had a fairly good idea of where the younger boy was going instead – but he could not follow him.

Today was the best opportunity he was going to ever get.

As Daehyun waited, he began wondering how Youngjae survived in the extreme cold. As far as he knew, everyone else in the village had access to warm clothes and blankets, and family to look after them. Youngjae had nothing, and nobody. Yet, Daehyun had seen him around the village, and he seemed as healthy as ever. He didn’t go to the weekly meetings to complain about the hunger or cold either.

Daehyun bit his lip, worrying about the boy as the sun rose in the sky and there was still no sign of Youngjae leaving his house. He hoped he wasn’t sick too.

Just before Daehyun was about to give up and head to back, he saw the door of Youngjae’s hut swing open, and the man himself step outside. Daehyun ducked down, hoping Youngjae wouldn’t notice someone staring at him, but his eyes widened when he saw how thin Youngjae’s clothes were. The boy was shivering as he sprinted across the village, and he slipped into the forest before Daehyun could realise what was happening.

The man cursed out loud and dropped his quilt, running outside before he could lose sight of the other. He was in the middle of panicking, unable to see Youngjae anymore, when his eyes fell on the footsteps in the snow.

The snow was falling quickly, but Daehyun could still see enough to follow the tracks before they were covered up again. He smiled slightly at the small footprints, and followed them into the forest.

Daehyun may not have been as talented as Sanghyun at hunting, but he knew his way around the forest without disturbing any animals, or alerting a certain boy that he was being followed. He caught up to Youngjae soon enough, but stayed at a safe distance away, hiding behind trees. After a few minutes, Youngjae had stopped running, and was now trudging through the snow, hugging himself to keep warm.

Daehyun’s eyes softened at the sight, but he frowned. He would have to find a way to keep Youngjae warm for as long as the cold lasted.

He watched Youngjae walked into a clearing, completely covered in snow. In the middle of the meadow stood a large tree which, like the other trees in the forest, had lost its leaves. Large fruit still hung from its branches, although Daehyun had never seen fruit like them before. His eyes fell on the man who was under the tree, dressed in all black, and his body went numb.

Without a decent place to hide in the clearing, Daehyun had to stay in the forest, hiding behind a tree. He watched, feeling his entire world freeze, as Youngjae’s entire expression lifted when he neared the man, a wide smile breaking on his face. It felt like a nightmare – just when he thought he had a chance with Youngjae, the boy had found someone else.

Daehyun stared at the figure, his eyes narrowing scornfully. Reluctantly, he admitted that the other man was attractive – extremely so. His blond hair, so light it almost looked platinum, was styled to look so _effortlessly_ perfect that Daehyun got angry just looking at it. Even from a far distance, he could make out the man’s sharp jawline, and his even sharper gaze, which didn’t soften as Youngjae approached. In fact, his expression only seemed to harden when he saw the shivering male, and he took off the jacket he was wearing to give it to him.

Daehyun watched as Youngjae blushed, flustered, and tried to refuse the gift, but the other man didn’t say anything else, leaving him to sheepishly wear the jacket.

Daehyun seethed, clamping his jaw shut. This _man_ , with his perfect hair and his _manners_.

Much to his relief, he didn’t have to wait for long to find a flaw in their relationship.

Youngjae was talking incessantly, but was barely receiving any reply. The other man only nodded or shook his head – he only opened his mouth for a verbal reply _once._ Even then, it was clipped and he didn’t look interested at all, even when Youngjae was grinning in his direction. Daehyun glared at the couple grumpily. Youngjae could do _so much_ better than someone who didn’t even care.

Daehyun had stood there, watching their one-sided conversation, for minutes, silently cursing the man Youngjae was with. How long had they been dating for? Surely Youngjae wasn’t lying when he said he was single for the bachelor festival.

As he was glaring at them, he pressed himself next to a tree trunk for warmth, and berated himself for forgetting to bring thicker clothing. He was already beginning to shiver again, cold snowflakes landing on his face and in his hair.

His nose twitched.

His eyes widened for a millisecond, before he gripped his mouth to muffle his sneeze. His nails dug into his skin when both Youngjae, and the man he was with, looked over to the tree he was hiding behind. He was frozen in place, making direct eye contact with Youngjae. Daehyun was so mortified staring at him that he didn’t realise Youngjae’s lover leave in a rush – almost as if disappearing in thin air.

Youngjae got over his shock quicker than Daehyun did, making his way over after a few moments. His expression was unreadable, but Daehyun would understand if he was about to be yelled at. He cursed under his voice, praying to the gods to take pity on him and create a pitfall beneath his feet, or send him to the Underworld so he would not have to confess to Youngjae that he was so hopelessly infatuated with him that the thought of him being courted by somebody else struck him with _fear_. He swallowed, watching Youngjae approach and wanting to hide behind a tree again.

When Youngjae was within an arm’s reach, an apology was on the tip of his tongue, but the younger villager lifted his hand to brush against Daehyun’s forehead.

“You are freezing, Daehyun,” he murmured, not sounding angry at all. Daehyun could only stare at the beauty in front of him, watching the snowflakes fall into his light brown hair, and admiring the blush across his cheeks, caused from the cold. Youngjae looked up at him, eyes wide and full of worry.

“I’m fine,” he replied, his teeth chattering. He crossed his arms tighter, staring defiantly at the boy in front of him. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to say anything senseless.

Youngjae hesitated before taking off his jacket – the one his suitor had just given him – and placing it on Daehyun’s shoulders. Daehyun was immediately shocked at the warmth it provided, and shook his head, trying to return it to the other, but Youngjae refused.

“You are too sick to be out here,” he chastised softly, pulling Daehyun’s wrist along, back towards the village.

“W-Who was he?” Daehyun chattered, only proving his point, but Youngjae didn’t reply. Daehyun didn’t recognise his suitor from the neighbouring villages – and he would have definitely heard about someone who looked that handsome. The thought of _his_ face made Daehyun’s anger rile up again, warming up his insides.

“Your lover will not be happy if you give this to me,” he said quietly.

Youngjae looked at him incredulously. “Are you deathly ill?”

“You are avoiding my questions,” Daehyun muttered bitterly, watching his feet trudge through the snow. He didn’t see Youngjae roll his eyes, and the boy tugged his arm to make him walk faster. Daehyun did so, but his feet dragged across the ground as he walked.

“We are only friends.”

Daehyun lifted his head, but Youngjae was not looking at him, walking in front. “He has a lover in his own village.”

“You… are uncourted?” Daehyun could not hide the relief that flooded his voice. Youngjae looked back at him, sighing.

“Just because you have a hoard of admirers doesn’t mean everyone else does,” the boy replied dryly.

Daehyun raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have any admirers.”

“Are you not only ill, but blind as well?” Youngjae said, but the corners of his lips lifted. He seemed a lot more relaxed, but Daehyun couldn’t help but ask more questions.

“Then… who was he?” he questioned. “Which village is he from? How are you friends? Do you _admire_ him?”

This time, he saw Youngjae roll his eyes and decidedly not answer the questions. He frowned, not getting an answer even as they entered the village, and as Youngjae led him straight towards his own hut.

The village was as empty as the two had left it, with all other villagers in the town centre for the meeting. If the meeting wasn’t on, Daehyun knew his father would insist for him to return home _immediately_ , and rumours would start in an instant. It was ridiculous how the village leader’s youngest son entering the orphan’s home would be the most scandalous gossip of the year. Still, as Daehyun entered Youngjae’s hut, he found himself flush with the implication.

Youngjae’s hut was much smaller than Daehyun’s, but it wasn’t any warmer. To Daehyun’s alarm, the boy didn’t seem to have many belongings at all. In the middle of the hut, he saw a few bowls and baskets filled with fruit on top of a table with only one chair. Youngjae had a single bed in one corner of the hut, and his kitchen was on the other side.

He let Youngjae sit him down on a chair as he observed his surroundings, and the younger boy rushed to take a blanket from his bed, draping it over his shoulders. He disappeared to the other side of his hut as Daehyun hugged the blanket around himself, surprised at the warmth it offered.

His eyes flickered to the other corner of Youngjae’s hut, where he saw a pile of unrecognisable material. They looked like grids, woven from grass. He didn’t have time to ponder on them, since Youngjae came back with two cups filled with water. He handed Daehyun one, and sat down across from him on the bed, crossing his legs.

“Will you answer my questions now?” he asked, after taking a much-needed drink.

Youngjae’s shoulders dropped tiredly, and he sighed, resigned. “Fine,” he muttered. “Ask all the questions you wish.”

Daehyun opened his mouth, but stopped when he saw that Youngjae was crossing his own arms. He was still wearing a thin shirt, and didn’t have anything else to cover himself. He hesitated, before sitting on Youngjae’s bed as well, and sharing the blanket between them. Instead of telling him to move, Youngjae gratefully accepted the silent proposition, and they sat close together, their thighs brushing.

“He is a friend of a friend,” Youngjae said suddenly. “That’s all. There is nothing about him that is special, or important for you to know.”

Daehyun flinched at his coldness. “I’m sorry for following you. I just – You deserve your privacy, I was just… worried.”

“Worried?” Youngjae blinked.

Daehyun nodded. “You don’t attend the weekly meetings…”

“I do not attend them because I do not agree with your father’s ideas,” Youngjae said curtly. “I do not mean to offend you, but I don’t think they are doing the best for this village,” he said honestly, and Daehyun smiled, brushing their shoulders together as well.

“I agree.”

Youngjae blinked. “You do?”

“Yes,” the man said. “…I cannot speak up against them though. The villagers admire Sanghyun so much.”

“They love you too,” Youngjae said, turning his head to look at him. “At the festival, everyone wished to talk to you. You are like a prince, to them.” He smiled lightly to himself, thinking about how he had thought the same thing. If he could talk to Junhong, how would the nymph react if he knew the ‘prince’ was on Youngjae’s bed?

“Perhaps, but I could not offer any real contribution to this village anyway,” Daehyun said finally, his expression darkening. He avoided Youngjae’s gaze, and stared at the floor of his hut. “My father and Sanghyun may not please everyone, but at least they have an idea of what to do to survive this winter – even if it is a corrupt idea.”

Youngjae raised a brow, “Corrupt?”

“Sanghyun declared that the men should receive most of the village’s shared supplies,” Daehyun explained grimly. “I don’t agree at all.”

“Nor do I,” Youngjae seemed upset, his forehead creasing. “There are pregnant women in this village.”

“Exactly,” Daehyun bit his lip. “But I cannot argue, for all of the men will stand with Sanghyun, and their wives will be forced to agree too.” He sighed, feeling the stress build on his shoulders. Being the youngest child meant nothing was really expected of him, since Sanghyun had taken partial leadership over the village, but Daehyun _wanted_ to help. He just couldn’t.

“I wish I could help, somehow,” he said wistfully.

Youngjae was staring at him, his lips forming a sympathetic pout. Tentatively, he placed his hand over Daehyun’s and squeezed comfortingly. A blush appeared over Daehyun’s cheeks, but before he could react, the boy was already standing up and walking over to the corner of the hut that Daehyun had been looking at earlier. Youngjae picked up a single net and brought it over, letting Daehyun observe it closely.

“I have been making these ever since the winter started,” he explained, playing with the net in his hands. From up close, Daehyun could see how intricately woven they were, made from grasses and other fibres. Suddenly Youngjae gripped it with his hands and pulled, but it didn’t snap or break. “They are made from the grass in the meadow. I made them to catch fish from the Seas.”

Daehyun looked at the hopeful expression on Youngjae’s face, and felt like a jerk when he said dubiously, “The village has never caught fish successfully before.”

“Because we haven’t learnt how to do it yet,” Youngjae replied. He grinned, “But I think I can figure it out. As soon as I do, will you teach the villagers how? It will be a useful skill for us to learn, don’t you think?”

“How do you know that the fish have not disappeared, along with all the forest animals?” Daehyun argued, and Youngjae rolled his eyes.

“Just trust me,” he pouted, and Daehyun was surprised to hear a hint of a whine in his voice. He couldn’t help the corners of his lips lifting – Youngjae was too adorable. “But if it works, you cannot tell the villagers that I showed you.”

“Why not?” Daehyun stood up, leaving the blanket on the bed. He strode towards Youngjae, who looked at him determinedly. “You would deserve recognition, if you save our entire village from starvation.”

“The village would not believe an _orphan_ ,” Youngjae scoffed. The bitterness in his voice made Daehyun flinch. The orphan softened, and when he spoke next, it was with a gentler tone. “It would be best if you showed them, yourself.”

 Daehyun frowned, “You would not receive the villagers’ appreciation, though.”

“Then you would have to thank me enough for the entire village,” Youngjae teased, and Daehyun laughed, feeling his heart soar when a bright grin spread across Youngjae’s face. He hit Daehyun’s shoulder lightly, “You should return home. Are you not ill?”

Daehyun badly faked a sneeze, and Youngjae rolled his eyes.

“Go home, Daehyun,” he said, but he was still wearing a grin.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to help you test these nets out,” Daehyun promised, and Youngjae’s smile dropped, his expression turning into one of confusion.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” Daehyun said, and gave him a small smile. “You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

Youngjae swallowed, feeling his cheeks heat up.

As he led Daehyun outside, he couldn’t stop thinking about how nobody from the village had ever said that to him before.

 

When Jongup returned to the Underworld, he wondered what the relationship was between Youngjae and that other human. He didn’t know definitely, but judging by Youngjae’s reaction of embarrassment instead of fear, he would be safe. If Jongup had gotten the slightest hint that Youngjae was going to be hurt, he would have brought the human down to the Underworld.

He quite liked Youngjae. After all, he was one of the first humans that Jongup had ever bothered interacting with. The human was patient and understanding, even when he had to lead most of the conversations. Jongup had not seen such kindness in a human before.

The god was still thinking about how strange Youngjae was as he entered the Underworld’s Castle. His eyes immediately searched for Himchan, and he felt his entire body relax when he saw his lover sitting with Yongguk and Junhong at a dining table.

“Jongup!” his lover called, standing up. His eyes were sparkling with excitement, and Jongup found himself instantly walking towards him. When he was within reach, Himchan’s arm curled around him and the Atlantean pressed a kiss into his hairline.

Jongup stared at him, silently questioning why he was practically buzzing with excitement.

“We are having a celebration,” Yongguk announced, looking affectionately at his nymph, who was pressed up against his side. Junhong looked just as excited as Himchan. “On the last day of Junhong’s stay here, we are inviting Olympus’s gods and goddesses to feast.”

“It’ll take a lot of planning, but Himchan says he can take care of it,” Junhong added.

Beside Jongup, Himchan was still bouncing on his toes.

“Guess what!” he enthused, beaming brightly. Jongup’s eyes softened, looking at his love, and Himchan threw his arms around him again. “Yongguk says you may take the day off to feast with us,” the half-god chattered excitedly. Jongup would have melted at his lover’s adorableness if not for the surprise of the news – he hadn’t had a whole day off in centuries. His position as Yongguk’s messenger was irreplaceable, and extremely busy.

Himchan continued talking, overflowing with energy, “Well, you may feast with Yongguk and all the other gods. Junhongie and I won’t be eating. But we _will_ be talking to everyone, especially Haseul!” He smiled at the mention of the harvest goddess, who was one of his closest friends.

Haseul was unsurprisingly proven innocent when Yongguk had stormed into Olympus searching for gods conspiring with Yongnam. Whilst she had blessed the pomegranate that Junhong ate, she had done it without knowing Yongnam’s intentions. Jongup had never doubted her innocence – she was the kindest and brightest goddess he knew.

“My father has been invited as well,” Himchan said, with a tone that was so cheerful that Jongup immediately knew it was faked. Jongup watched his expression carefully, seeing how his bottom lip trembled for a moment, before he steeled himself and continued. “I do not know if he will accept, but it was all I could do.”

When Jongup saw him shrug helplessly, he remembered the years Himchan had spent crying because of his father, and he felt anger flare in his stomach. He murmured, his voice soft, “Are you sure you want him to come?”

In the corner of his view, Jongup saw Junhong blink, hearing his voice for the first time, but he did not stop looking at his lover.

Himchan turned his head and nodded slightly, just enough for Jongup to relax his hold. The messenger still looked worried, his eyes fixed on Himchan, even as the half-god turned back to Junhong and Yongguk.

“Um. Yongguk will explain,” he said quietly to Junhong, his mood dropping in mere seconds. Jongup was still watching him intensely, and as soon as the words left his mouth, the both of them had disappeared from the room.

Yongguk’s hand was in Junhong’s in an instant.

“Is he okay?” Junhong asked worriedly, looking at his lover. “He looked really upset.”

“You heard that his father is invited to the party,” Yongguk said, walking towards a sofa. His footsteps echoed against the tiles, and Junhong followed him, sitting so close next to him that he was almost on top of him. Yongguk pressed a kiss to his temple and spoke – hushed, as if Himchan could still hear him, “Himchan’s father is the god of healing. His name is Hyunwoo. You may not have heard of him before.”

Junhong shook his head, a frown surfacing on his face. Should he have learnt more about the gods of Olympus?

“Do not feel guilt, my love. Hyunwoo is rarely talked about, amongst mortals and gods alike. He is considered a disgraced god by my sister,” Yongguk said, his hand reaching over to hold Junhong’s. He continued without pause. “But yes, Hyunwoo and a human from Atlantis were Himchan’s parents. Himchan inherited his beauty from his mother and his healing abilities from his father.”

“No wonder...” Junhong felt dim-witted for not guessing it before – of _course_ Himchan was related to a god. He was a healer – and mortals couldn’t learn magic if it wasn’t in their blood.

“Hyunwoo used to be the most powerful god in Olympus, even stronger than myself, or Natasha,” Yongguk explained, watching Junhong’s reaction carefully. He knew it was hard to believe that someone could be stronger than the God of Death himself. “His healing skill had surpassed the barrier between life and death, and he could bring back people from the dead, if they had not yet entered the three islands. Even if Natasha and I were displeased, we allowed him to revive mortals for hundreds of years, as long as he did so in moderation.”

Junhong was tense, staring at Yongguk as he waited for Yongguk’s explanation.

“Thousands of years ago, before Himchan was even born, Hyunwoo brought back a murderer from Tartarus, in exchange for gold,” Yongguk said, his eyes dark with rage and voice low as he retold the event. “Natasha and I were both infuriated – he truly believed that he deserved to overwrite the rules of the Underworld.” The man shook his head, as if he was still in disbelief, “Natasha stripped him of his ability to heal and turned him into a worthless god. He was unable to heal anyone or anything ever again; doomed to live an eternity knowing that he had fallen in both power and importance.”

Junhong swallowed, unsure of how to feel. Hyunwoo sounded like a terrible, selfish god, but healing was the one thing he _could_ do. He imagined that losing his forest would be the same as Hyunwoo losing his power forever.

“For that, Hyunwoo hates Natasha. He has never forgiven her, and I doubt he ever will,” Yongguk said, but he didn’t sound like he particularly cared. “But the one person he hates just as much in this world is his own son.”

“Himchan...” Junhong breathed, and the god nodded, his gaze casted down.

“Hyunwoo and Himchan’s mother were in love, but they never married. Hyunwoo didn’t want her to suffer through eternity like he did,” Yongguk said quietly. “So when Yongnam sank all of Atlantis, Himchan’s mother drowned to death, and Hyunwoo could no longer revive her. He could not heal the thirty thousand who drowned with her, either.”

“He blames Himchan for Atlantis sinking?” Junhong said in disbelief, horror forming in his gut when Yongguk nodded. “But that is Yongnam’s fault!”

“Hyunwoo also blames Himchan for not being able to heal his mother from death,” the god murmured, rubbing Junhong’s back comfortingly. The nymph was beginning to breathe heavily, clearly becoming upset. “Himchan was twenty-one, and his skills had not yet developed.”

“That is unfair!” Junhong shouted, frustration pouring out of him. “He is Himchan’s father, and he ought to act like it.”

“I know, I know,” Yongguk soothed, holding the nymph close to him. Junhong was fuming. “Himchan suffered for some years, but Jongup has always comforted him whenever Hyunwoo arrives in the Underworld.”

“Does he come here often?” Junhong asked, hoping that he didn’t.

“Once a year,” Yongguk answered, and Junhong’s frown deepened. “On the anniversary of Atlantis’s disappearance, he comes here to yell abuse at Himchan, and blame him for his mother’s murder.”

“And he is allowed?”

“Jongup and I would like nothing more than to have him banished to Tartarus,” the god said quietly, “but he is Himchan’s last relative, and Himchan refuses to let him go.”

“It’s unfair,” Junhong mumbled. “He has suffered through Yongnam and Hyunwoo, and he is still unable to escape either of them.”

Yongguk nodded and squeezed his hand. He did not want to tell the young nymph, who had lived the majority of his life in isolation, the truth, but he knew Junhong would understand more than anyone.

“Our lives are unfair, Junhong. There is nothing we can do about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on my holidays but I still suck at updating? Sorry! Anyway, we're now officially halfway through this story, but it's really only just beginning.
> 
> By the way, the people of Atlantis aren't living in the bottom of the Seas or anything, they're dead. Himchan has all their records, so he knows this for certain.


	7. Spring 1/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junhong loved Yongguk. If he wanted to spend the rest of eternity with him, he would have to get used to attention, from both humans and gods.

Together, Himchan and Junhong relentlessly planned the party for the following two months, sorting out decorations, catering, and access to the Underworld. They had settled on a floral theme, in honour of Junhong's last night, and the Underworld opened all barriers for Olympus's gods and goddesses.

Catering was much more difficult. Neither Himchan nor Junhong could actually eat any of the food in the Underworld, so they had to drag Yongguk and Jongup to try some of the samples. The event would be catered by supposedly the best of Olympus's chefs, the fae. Junhong was slightly disappointed that he would not be eating, but all his disappointment was overshadowed by his excitement for the party next week.

“Is it delicious?” he asked Yongguk, watching him eat some sort of cake dusted with specks of gold. His eyes were wide with fascination, but Yongguk angled the dessert away from him.

“It is,” the man said, but he was frowning. "The gold could be a hazard though. What if some of the golden dust lands on your tongue?” He shook his head and set the unfinished sample down. “We cannot serve this.”

Junhong smiled at his lover's paranoia, but said nothing. Even if it was amusing, he was grateful that Yongguk was looking out for him.

The nymph licked his lips, looking at the hundreds of other food samples spread on the long table in front of them. “Perhaps we could bring some of the leftover food up to the Surface the next day,” he suggested hopefully. “Youngjae and I would certainly enjoy it.”

“Of course you may,” Yongguk agreed, taking another sample from the next tray. It had been over two hours, and he hadn’t even tried half of the samples yet.

Becoming slightly bored, Junhong moved himself to face Yongguk, silently asking for a kiss. To his surprise, Yongguk just turned his head slightly, refusing to comply with his wishes.

"You know I wouldn't deny you usually," the god said, and Junhong pouted, wondering why he wasn’t kissing him right now. Yongguk looked truly apologetic, his hand reaching up to smoothen the nymph's blond hair, which had fallen over his eyes. He explained, his dark eyes showing how sorry he was, “I just ate, I cannot risk kissing you.”

Junhong nodded in understanding, relief replacing his confusion and hurt, and he darted forward to peck Yongguk's cheek instead. He sat back in his seat, sighing slightly as he gestured to the food, “It is unfortunate that Himchan will not be able to eat these.”

“Indeed,” Yongguk agreed. “But since Jongup has the day off, I would not be surprised if they sneak up to the Surface for a few moments, just to be alone.”

“Will Himchan be safe?” the nymph asked. He did not wish to speak of Yongnam, but he knew that the god was not invited to the party; Yongguk had thrown a table at his sister when she had subtly suggested it, saying that it would be a good opportunity to " _bond_." He had refused to talk to her after that, only calming down when Junhong knocked on his door and peppered his face with kisses to cheer him up.

Yongguk smiled, gazing at the nymph. “With Jongup, he will always be safe.”

 

“I cannot believe you are missing the weekly meeting!” Youngjae yelled, a wide grin spreading on his face. He was holding a bunch of nets in his hands, climbing down from the rocks to run towards Daehyun, standing in the distance.

Daehyun watched him with adoration in his eyes, as the other boy slowed to a stop in front of him. The sand was soft against their bare feet, but the winds were harsh, and Youngjae struggled to keep the hair out of his eyes as he looked at Daehyun.

“I have to accompany my favourite villager as he saves our people from hunger,” Daehyun teased, loving how Youngjae's eyes crinkled as he laughed.

“Come with me,” the boy dropped the nets on the sand and offered his hand out. Daehyun took it, holding tight. Youngjae immediately started running towards the rocks again, where he was before, and he let go of Daehyun's hand to climb up. Daehyun followed him without hesitation, although – like always – he was questioning Youngjae relentlessly.

“How will you catch fish from here?” he asked, his voice loud so that Youngjae could hear him over the winds. Youngjae watched him, making sure that he wouldn't fall off the rock they were climbing.

“I am not catching fish,” the boy answered honestly, taking a seat on top of one of the largest rocks. Beside him was a space that Daehyun took, and their thighs touched when they sat together.

Even as their legs hung off the rock’s ledge, Daehyun was not afraid – he had learnt over the past two months that Youngjae was wild, but he was not stupid. He loved nature to an almost ridiculous extent, but would not put himself in danger. Even now, the boy was staring out at the sea, watching the waves crash down and the water rush below them, slamming against sharp rocks that promised pain if the two fell. Daehyun watched as the smile slowly left Youngjae’s face, and the other boy looked down at his hands, almost sadly.

"Then what are we doing here?" he asked, eyes never leavi.g Youngjae’s face. Youngjae turned to him, eyes staring into his, when he dropped his head on Daehyun's shoulder tiredly.

"Relaxing," Youngjae answered softly, looking back at the ocean.

Daehyun was tense, too aware of Youngjae's head on his shoulder. He could not move, could barely even breathe. Every time the waves below them crashed against the rock they were sitting on, he could feel the cold splash on his toes. Youngjae’s body beside him was motionless, other than his shallow breaths.

Even if Daehyun was frozen still, he could not deny how much he was enjoying himself. He wasG thrilled that Youngjae was comfortable with him now, that he could finally make up for the distance between them for the past twenty years.

Unlike Daehyun, Youngjae’s entire body was filled with dread. He slumped against Daehyun, defeated. It was the last day of the winter, and he knew that they could not stay like this for much longer.

Daehyun was the village’s biggest star now. Everyone watched him with adoration in their eyes, for saving them from hunger. He reluctantly kept his promise to Youngjae and told nobody who invented the nets – but he did not claim credit for them either. Whenever he was asked how they were made, he changed the subject.

It was his honesty and loyalty that Youngjae’s liked him for – and it hurt to know that Daehyun would no longer need him, or want to see him, after this winter.

But Youngjae needed to ask him something while they were still friends. He needed Daehyun’s influence in the village, and his kindness – for Junhong.

"Did you mean it when you said I was your favourite villager?" the doe-eyed boy asked suddenly. His head lifted off Daehyun’s shoulder and he stared at him with wide, desperate eyes.

Daehyun startled. "What?"

"No – you have a family," the boy shook his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't ha–It was a joke," he said firmly, as if convincing himself. He forced himself to turn and look at the waves again, so looking at Daehyun wouldn’t make him cry. He would miss Daehyun _so much_. Daehyun was the most important person in the village to him; the only person in the village who mattered.

"Youngjae, you're my favourite _person_ ," Daehyun said honestly, watching as Youngjae's head snapped to look at him in disbelief. "You _are_. You are kind, and spontaneous, and unbelievably clever – the village is lucky to have you."

Youngjae brightened slightly, leaning back into Daehyun again, much to the other's relief. He felt a spark of hope. "You are my favourite villager as well, Daehyun."

Daehyun leant his head on Youngjae's and breathed in, taking in the scent of the sea, and Youngjae. He closed his eyes, feeling all tension leaving his body, when Youngjae suddenly spoke.

Youngjae was now tensed, biting his bottom lip nervously. He did not know how Daehyun would take his request, but he owed it to Junhong to try.

"I need to tell you something."

Daehyun sat up, and Youngjae looked at him worriedly, holding his hands in his lap. His back was uncomfortably straight, and he was looking at him earnestly.

"After today… the weather will become warmer again," the boy started. "You will no longer need to fish to survive, and the village will return to normal. You probably will not talk to me again either, but that is alright. I just need… I need you to stop the village from hunting."

"What are you talking about?" Daehyun's eyebrows furrowed, his heartrate beginning to pick up.

"The Lord of the Underworld, Lord Yongguk, came to see me when this weather began," Youngjae said, speaking faster and faster. "His lover is trapped in the Underworld, and he created this winter as revenge for his brother who trapped him there. His lover is a nymph, his name is Junhong. He is my best friend." Youngjae turned his head, forcing himself to see Daehyun's reaction. The other boy was frozen, his eyes wide and jaw clenched.

"Ever since I was five, I visited him weekly in the forest, and he fed me fruit, taught me how to thread flower stalks, and listened to me when no one else would. He is kind. And so is Lord Yongguk," Youngjae rushed to say. Anxiety seeped into his veins, unsure how Daehyun would take the news. "Lord Yongguk did not wish death upon this village, and hence instructed me–"

"You _allowed_ this to happen?" Daehyun said in shock, staring at Youngjae. His eyes were devoid of any emotion, of any affection, and Youngjae flinched, feeling tears surface.

"I did not wish for it," he answered, heart pounding when Daehyun did not immediately receive the news well. "Lord Yongguk gave me no choice."

“But your _best friend i_ s a nymph who cursed this village, correct?” Daehyun said coldly, already standing up. Youngjae hurried to stand as well, but Daehyun was already climbing down from the rock.

"He did not _curse_ the village–" the boy said, but was immediately cut off.

"Enough," Daehyun growled. "I've heard enough. I should've known you weren't so impossibly clever as to invent the nets."

"I invented them!" Youngjae yelled, frustration and betrayal pouring out of him. "I did!"

"Did your precious nymph tell you to say that?" Daehyun scoffed. "Nymphs are our village’s enemy, Youngjae. I thought you knew that. They are cruel; we are starving because of _them_ ," he sneered. He turned around and started walking back towards the village.

"They are _not_ cruel!" the boy shouted, storming after the other. He pushed Daehyun backwards, forcing him to turn around. Daehyun’s eyes widened at the rage in his voice, but they narrowed again. "They are kind, and caring, and they have been murdered by us!"

"Then clearly you are not one of us, Youngjae," Daehyun said quietly. He was staring at the boy before him with new eyes, but unlike the other, he was not crying. He could not believe that this boy, whom he had loved for years, could be the village’s traitor.

Youngjae could feel hot tears running down his cheeks, and he wiped them away harshly.

"I cannot believe I was _ever_ infatuated with you," he snapped angrily, shoving past Daehyun as he ran back towards the village. He did not stop by his hut – instead, he ran back into the forest, going into the meadows to try and find Jongup.

He would be fine without Daehyun. He had lived twenty _good_ years without the stupid prince, and he could live twenty more. He did not care if Daehyun told the rest of the village, and they casted him out, or even if they threatened to starve him. All he needed was Junhong.

When he ran into the meadow and could not see the messenger god anywhere, he fell at the trunk of the pomegranate tree, holding back his sobs.

 

Junhong had never been around so many people, even when his _nymphai_ were alive. All of Olympus’s gods accepted their invitations, and they all crowded the castle’s first floor. According to Himchan, it was the biggest turnout in centuries – he told Junhong that everyone had come, mostly to see the nymph who had stolen Yongguk’s heart.

The nymph was playing with a floral chain decorated the staircase’s banisters, wishing he could smoothen a crumpled petal. The decorations were all made from some synthetic material, and many guests had commented on how real they looked. But Junhong could not relate at all; when he reached out to feel them, he couldn’t feel any life.

Still, he found them beautiful. Looking at them, he was reminded of the night three months ago, when he had made himself and Yongguk matching crowns out of his own flowers. Pink and white flower chains hung from the ceiling, and flower bouquets were the centrepiece of every table. Junhong had even suggested offering the gods and goddesses flower crowns of their own, but Yongguk had refused.

_(“The crowns are for us only,” he had murmured, sealing Junhong’s lips with a kiss as sweet as nectar._

_Junhong had smiled and said nothing, returning his kiss passionately.)_

The party was officially underway, having started two hours ago, but gods and goddesses were still filing in now, all sipping from wine glasses or champagne flutes as they listened to Yongguk’s address. Even now, Junhong was listening to Yongguk speak to the public, his voice strong and clear. For appearance purposes, he was wearing one of his crowns – a golden piece laden with diamonds – as well as a golden, silk tunic. The gold was regal against his pitch-black trousers.

Junhong thought he looked beautiful – like how a god should look.

“This all would not have been possible without Junhong,” Yongguk said proudly, eyes meeting the nymph from the staircase. Everyone followed his gaze, staring at Junhong, who froze under the attention. A small smile formed on Yongguk’s lips at the sight of the startled nymph.

Junhong’s mind was blank, but he gave his lover a shy smile in response.

He loved Yongguk. If he wanted to spend the rest of eternity with him, he would have to get used to attention, from both humans and gods.

Yongguk looked at the crowd’s faces once again. “He has relentlessly planned this night, and I could not be prouder of him.” He lifted his wine glass as a toast, his eyes focusing on the nymph again. Even as he brought the glass to his lips, he did not stop his gaze.

Junhong could not help his blush when the gods all stared at him as they downed their drinks. As soon as Yongguk stepped down from the staircase, whispers broke out amongst them, and Junhong looked down at the fake flower chain in his hands, wishing to be on the Surface. There, nobody criticised or scorned him for loving Yongguk.

He watched his lover approach him, the smile on his face dropping when he saw how nervous Junhong looked.

“What’s wrong, sweetling?” he murmured, his lips brushing over the nymph’s ear. He did not wish for anybody else to hear them.

“They are all scorning me,” the nymph mumbled, reaching out with his spare hand and curling his fingers into Yongguk’s shirt. The flower chain crumpled in his other hand out of frustration.

Yongguk returned his embrace without hesitation, even if everybody in the room was watching them. “Perhaps they are,” he said honestly, and Junhong’s stomach sunk. The god smiled and tilted his head up to press a kiss to Junhong’s nose, “but I truly believe that if at least one person isn’t admiring how beautiful you look, then we should cancel the event.”

To his relief, Junhong laughed, a light sound that never failed to make him smile as well. He ran his hand over Junhong’s sleeve, admiring the embroidered flowers on his silk tunic, and hummed. “Perhaps we should ask Himchan if you could keep this,” he said thoughtfully.

Junhong grinned, lacing their fingers together. “Or perhaps we should talk to the other gods, to thank them for coming.”

Around them, gods and goddesses were lulling about, clearly trying to have conversations with each other whilst eavesdropping on the two.

“It seems like you are already fit to become a god,” Yongguk said. He watched Junhong carefully, to see if the suggestion of marriage would scare him.

“I only wish to spend eternity with you,” he replied simply.

Yongguk’s eyes widened slightly, before he relaxed, gazing at the younger affectionately. Hiding a dopey smile, Yongguk slipped his hand down to Junhong’s back, leading him through the crowd. The other gods parted naturally for him – it seemed that, even though everybody wanted to talk about Yongguk and Junhong, nobody actually wanted to talk to them.

Last time he checked, Natasha was in a drinking with the god of wine, and Himchan and Jongup were nowhere to be seen. Yongguk supposed they were up on the Surface, but it seemed odd that they would miss his opening speech, especially since Himchan had planned the event so thoroughly.

"Lord Yongguk!" Both Yongguk and Junhong heard a sweet voice call, and looked up to see a beautiful girl approach them. The nymph blinked in surprise. She wore a sweet smile, as well as a stunning dress; Junhong didn't know much about fashion, having lived his entire life in the forest, but he could tell that the dress – a deep green and trailing behind her – was beautiful. The sleeves of her dress even looked like vines, twisting down her arms. When she came closer, Junhong could see that her eyes were also the same shade of royal green, but when she was looking at him, her eyes were already welling up with tears. She was still smiling, but it was wavering, like she was trying her best not to cry.

"Oh, Lord Junhong," she said, her voice sounding strangled. Junhong shot a panicked look at Yongguk, who was trying _his_ best to hide a smile. Since when was he a _lord_?

Her bottom lip wobbled, and she steeled herself. “I told myself I wouldn’t cry,” she said to them, but it looked like she was already failing. As she took a moment to compose herself, Junhong looked her over once more. She was petite, with light brown hair that flowed past her shoulders. The nymph took a double-take when he saw her pointed ears – she looked like a sprite, but she was definitely a goddess too.

He wondered whom she married. He wondered who she even _was_.

“I would like to explain and apologise,” she said finally. Junhong blinked. “Yongnam actually told me to bless the pomegranate which trapped you here, as a gift for Yongguk in the Underworld. I never knew of his true intentions, and I foolishly believed his words.” She lowered her head, looking apologetic.

Junhong remembered Yongguk explaining how Yongnam had managed to bless the pomegranate that trapped him here – by tricking the harvest goddess, Haseul. When he heard the news, he had felt sympathy for her.

"It's okay, Lady Haseul," he said. "You didn't know…"

"I'm really sorry," she said sincerely, clasping his hands in hers. "Truly. I will do _anything_ to gain your forgiveness."

"I have already forgiven you,” the nymph blinked. "You didn't do it, so I never blamed you in the first place."

She stared at him, bottom lip trembling, and threw her arms over his neck. Junhong's eyes widened even further. Yongguk was hiding a _laugh_ now.

"Let's not attack the young nymph," he said, finally rescuing Junhong from the goddess's clutches.

"Oh, of course!" she said, giving him a shaky smile. Junhong hoped she wouldn't start crying again. "I apologise, again. I am Haseul, goddess of the harvest. I hear you can create fruits as well."

Junhong perked up, suddenly interested.

"I can, but my specialty is creating flowers," he said. Yongguk smiled. He had not seen the nymph so excited about anything since three months ago.

Haseul nodded eagerly, “I’ve heard! All the goddesses in Olympus are greatly anticipating your return to the Surface, so you may resume creating more. This winter has been dreadful.”

“So I’ve heard,” Junhong said, glancing at Yongguk. The god had told him everything about his revenge, and whilst Junhong did not agree with it, he knew it was necessary to give Yongnam a warning. “I will gladly make bouquets for you, if that is your wish?”

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Haseul clapped her hands together, delighted. “Perhaps you may also teach me how to grow flowers?”

“Teach you?” Junhong repeated.

“Of course, you do not have to!” she said hastily. “But I could also teach you how to grow even more fruit!”

Junhong shook his head, looking curious. “No, I would certainly teach you, if I knew how. I do not think I grow flowers, I simply create them.” He looked at Yongguk, pure excitement on his face. He looked adorable. “Could you teach me how to teach you? I have a friend on the Surface whom I would love to teach as well.”

“Of course!” Haseul exclaimed. “I could meet you there, sometime, and teach you both how to grow fruit.”

“My friend is human, could he still learn?” Junhong tilted his head.

“I don’t see why not,” the harvest goddess smiled. “Growing fruit takes much longer than creating them, but anyone can do it. It is the same with your flowers. If your friend on the Surface is patient, and as kind as you are, I am certain he will learn quickly.”

Junhong’s mouth was open, and he looked at Yongguk before looking back at Haseul. He gestured at a dining table. Most of the gods had decided to talk to each other whilst standing, leaving most of the seats empty.

“Shall we take a seat?”

 

One hour later, Haseul and Junhong were still talking to each other with enthusiasm about how they would teach Youngjae when he returned to the Surface the next day. Yongguk was with them, listening intently despite not fully understanding what they were talking about. He was just glad that Junhong was enjoying himself.

He hummed, wondering if he should throw an event similar to this one every year, if Junhong enjoyed it so much.

A sudden hush fell over the room, and the three sitting at the table looked up. The crowd parted, and Yongguk’s eyes widened as he saw Himchan and Jongup walk through, the half-god covering his face with his hand. Blood dripped down onto the floor beneath him, but his strides were fast and urgent.

“Hyunwoo,” was the only thing Jongup said when he was close enough, his fist clenched by his side.

Himchan moved his hand slightly to show a deep cut on his cheek, but cast his eyes on the ground. His eyes were rimmed red, and his hand was shaking.

Junhong jumped up to his feet immediately, rushing over to the Atlantean. His eyes were wide, and his hands hovered near Himchan’s face, as if wanting to heal it himself. Yongguk stared at the wound, seeing tiny glass shards still inside his skin.

“We need to go to Olympus,” Jongup said stiffly, only looking at Yongguk.

“You may,” Yongguk allowed, a worried frown on his face.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the two disappeared in front of him. Junhong’s mouth was open, shocked speechless.

“His father did that?” he finally spoke, voice ringing throughout the room. Whispers broke out between the gods, and Yongguk glared at them all when Junhong slapped a hand over his mouth, looking guilty.

“Continue,” he ordered the musicians, who scrambled for their instruments.

His gaze fell on the shocked sprite goddess, as well as Junhong, who was still staring at him, wanting an explanation. Haseul seemed worried, but she knew better than to meddle with the Lord’s business.

“It was lovely meeting you, Junhong,” she said, offering her hand to shake. Junhong blinked, and shook her hand politely. “I must find my husband now, but I will definitely keep in touch,” she promised. “I’ll see you on the Surface, okay?”

“See you then,” Junhong said brightly, but without his previous enthusiasm.

“Your lover is wonderful,” she told Yongguk, and the god shook her hand as well, offering her a tight-lipped smile, before she walked back into the crowd.

“When will Himchan be back?” Junhong whispered as soon as they were alone. Slowly, the gods and goddesses had turned back to their own conversations, uninterested in events they did not fully understand. When Yongguk did not reply, Junhong curled his fingers into the god’s shirt again, worried for the half-god who had welcomed him into the Underworld. Yongguk guided him through the crowd, and up the staircase to the second level.

“They will either be back in a few moments, or in a few hours,” Yongguk finally said, once he was sure they couldn’t be heard by the others. “Perhaps Himchan will be back at midnight, before you leave, so he can say goodbye.”

The nymph paused, and gasped. “O-oh, I forgot he cannot come see me on the Surface.”

“Indeed,” Yongguk murmured.

Junhong’s eyes fell. In the last three months, he had grown close to Himchan, and had gotten used to his suggestive antics. He’d even started to understand Jongup and Himchan’s silent, but loving, relationship. The nymph knew he’d miss Himchan in the next nine months, especially after they’d spent almost all their time together.

“Will you come see me often?” the nymph whispered suddenly, feeling cold. He searched Yongguk’s expression with anxious eyes.

The god stared up at Junhong, eyebrows pulling together. “Junhong…”

“I love the Surface, my lord,” Junhong said suddenly, “but I want to be with you all the time too.”

Yongguk ran his hand through his lover’s hair. “Nothing will change once you return to the Surface, young nymph, I promise you. I will be with you every moment I have spare,” he assured the younger, tilting his head up to kiss his nose. “You should be celebrating your return to the Surface, not worrying about matters like these,” he chastised.

Junhong nodded, turning his head slightly to look over the castle’s entrance room, its usual emptiness filled with people.

He felt Yongguk’s hand on his arm, and he looked back at the god. Yongguk was staring at the castle entrance, looking at Jongup and Himchan walk back through. Junhong followed his gaze, and lit up almost immediately.

Their bodies disappeared from the lower floor and they reappeared next to Junhong.

“Of course I would say goodbye,” Himchan said, and Junhong blinked. His wound was perfectly healed. Jongup was standing behind him, like always, but his attention was on the floor below them. He was searching through the gods and goddesses, most likely looking for Hyunwoo.

“He’s already left,” Yongguk murmured to the other god. Jongup pressed his lips, clearly unsatisfied.

“There are only three hours left until we must say goodbye for nine moons,” Himchan held Junhong’s wrist, pulling him towards the stairs. He did not pay attention to Yongguk and Jongup’s conversation, preferring to forget what had happened earlier. “There are a few more people here whom you should meet!”

 


	8. Spring 2/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He heard a yelp and turned just in time to see a spooked deer barrel into Youngjae, knocking the small human over onto a patch of Junhong’s flowers.
> 
> “Junhong, why would she be running?” Youngjae whispered, eyes flickering to where the doe had come from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence and death.

Junhong could feel the hairs standing on his arm as he held onto Yongguk’s arm, ready to leave. As much as he enjoyed his time in the Underworld, he did not want to come back until next year. He closed his eyes, gripping onto his lover tightly.

He could feel wind blowing through his hair, before he even opened his eyes. He sighed in relief at the sight of the green floor, the feeling of the soft grass beneath his feet. He could still feel the cool chill of winter, but it was barely there anymore.

“Junhong!” Youngjae stood up in front of the tree, unmoving, as if in disbelief about what he was seeing. In the moonlight, it was clear that he had been crying, but Junhong did not get time to ask him why. Youngjae was already running towards him, and the nymph was almost knocked over when the human barrelled into him. His shoulders shook as he cried and laughed, and he buried his face into Youngjae’s hair. The human was also trembling in his hold, hugging him tightly.

Yongguk watched them both, a fond smile on his face.

Junhong looked up, watching as flowers covered the ground beneath them, leading out to the forest, where fruit started to grow on the trees. He took a deep breath, feeling the life around him and the flowers growing on his palms. The urge to lie down and roll in the grass was overwhelming, but he knew both Youngjae and Yongguk would stare at him. Besides, he did not want Yongguk to think he felt so trapped in the Underworld.

“You could make it rain flowers,” Youngjae sniffled, and Junhong hugged him again.

“It is good to be back,” he said happily, stepping back to look at Youngjae properly. He immediately noted the human’s red eyes, swollen long before his arrival. “Why have you been crying? Have you been waiting here long?”

“Since this morning,” Youngjae said, looking at all the flowers around them.

The nymph blinked, his expression clouding with worry. “Youngjae, if you have been waiting here for so long, somebody in your village would have noticed.”

“I’m not going back,” the human mumbled, dropping to his knees to gather some flowers. He avoided Junhong’s eyes, even as the nymph took a seat in front of him, and Yongguk sat next to them as well. The god busied himself with some of the flowers, not wanting to make Youngjae uncomfortable with his full attention.

Junhong stayed quiet, focusing on his hands as he created even more flowers. Youngjae never liked to be pressed for answers, and he always told Junhong everything in the end.

The human in front of him was struggling to find words, setting the flowers in his hands down before he clenched his fists. “I befriended Daehyun during the winter.”

Junhong’s head snapped up, a smile beginning to lighten his face, but it dropped as soon as he saw Youngjae’s face. The human looked up to meet his eyes, “He and I helped the village survive in the winter, and I thought we had become closer...” he trailed off, not knowing how to say what he wanted to.

“Do you still love him?” the nymph asked.

“Not anymore,” Youngjae replied, feeling the lie settle in the air between them. “I thought I could trust him, so I told him about nymphs... And he told me I was the village’s traitor.”

Junhong frowned, but Yongguk was staring at him now.

“Will he seek Junhong out?” the god asked urgently. He knew it may not have been the point of Youngjae’s speech, but Junhong was always Yongguk’s priority. “Is he in danger?”

“Daehyun would not hunt him down himself, but he may tell the other villagers,” Youngjae’s eyes fell, playing with his fingers. “I should have thought of that before telling him. I truly am sorry, Junhong.”

The nymph shook his head, refusing to accept the other’s apology. “If you told him, you must have trusted him immensely. I am not the one you should be worrying about.” Youngjae looked at him, eyes widening in shock at his kindness. Junhong’s eyes were soft as he looked at the other in sympathy – Youngjae had suffered a lot in the past three months, alone.

“I missed you so much,” the human cried, moving forward to hug the other again. Junhong held him tightly, closing his eyes and sighing happily.

“I missed you too.”

He waited until Youngjae reluctantly pulled back, before he said quietly, “I love you, Youngjae, but you cannot stay with me.”

The boy’s mouth opened, “What do you mean?”

“I cannot protect you here, Youngjae,” Junhong sighed, leaning back. Youngjae’s expression immediately turned into one of anger. Knowing he was about to argue, the nymph continued, “You are in more danger with me.”

“But I have already told him!” Youngjae cried.

“ _He will not hurt you_ ,” Junhong said slowly, promising him. During his days spent in the Underworld, after he read the records of everyone he knew, he had decided to read the records of the village. Whenever Youngjae complained about the village leader, he never talked about his wife, Daehyun’s mother, and the nymph soon learnt that she had passed away when Daehyun was ten years old. To his relief, she was unlike her husband – she was kind, and honest, and loving. All traits she managed to pass down to her second son, if not her first.

Youngjae felt his eyes sting, “Please, Junhong.”

“I would not endanger you,” Junhong said. “Trust me, Youngjae.”

Reluctantly, the human agreed.

“Fine,” he said quietly, not seeing how relieved Junhong looked. “But you cannot make me return home until the morning,” he said, and looked over at Yongguk. “Both of you, tell me how the past three months were!”

Junhong shared an amused look with Yongguk before he agreed, laughing when Youngjae jumped in excitement. They all sat down on the grass, the moon high in the sky, and talked until the sun rose the next morning.

 

When Youngjae was forced to return home, he mumbled and complained relentlessly that he couldn’t believe Junhong was leading him to his death. He only had a few hours of sleep, so Yongguk told him to get some more rest when he returned to his hut. Youngjae already knew that Yongguk was kind, but everything the god said and did only reinforced that notion; he had even brought up some food from the Underworld! After eating more food than he had ever eaten before, the human finally knew that both Yongguk and Junhong deserved each other.

He walked towards the village quietly, not wanting to attract attention. Perhaps if he lived like this – staying out with Junhong all night and only returning home to sleep – he could survive the next few years in the village, without being executed.

He heaved a heavy breath as he opened the door to his hut and slipped inside, closing the door without a sound. The human was only carrying a bouquet of flowers, but they dropped to the floor when he saw who was sitting on his bed.

Daehyun looked uncomfortable, sitting with his back straight and watching Youngjae carefully.

“Sorry for intruding,” he said quietly, standing up. “But I really needed to speak to you.”

Youngjae knelt down to pick up his flowers, before placing them on a small table. He stared at Daehyun, crossing his arms and willing his voice not to tremble. “You should just tell me whether I have to move into the next village or not.”

“I will not tell my father for now,” Daehyun said stiffly, walking closer to the younger boy. Youngjae swallowed, not stepping back even as he approached. “But the moment this village is endangered because of your little ‘friendship’ – I will not hesitate to.”

“Has the village been endangered in the past fifteen years?” Youngjae snapped.

Daehyun paused, eyes flickering down to Youngjae’s clenched fists. His lips pressed together angrily, and he strode towards the door without another word.

“Do not come in here again,” Youngjae said coldly, seeing Daehyun’s eyes narrow and jaw tighten with rage.

“My brother is starting a hunt. Tomorrow. Warn your ‘friend.’”

He slammed the door shut without another word.

When Youngjae finally understood what Daehyun had said, he swore under his breath and rushed out of the door, back towards the clearing.

 

He burst into the clearing, panting in exhaustion, only to see Junhong running through the grass towards Yongguk, who was waiting by the pomegranate tree. Flowers sprouted along the ground he ran on, and he leapt into his lover’s arms. Youngjae’s mouth opened as he saw the grass being covered by pink and white, as Yongguk held Junhong tightly.

It had been three, long months since he had seen so much colour.

The two lovers shared a kiss and the flowers bloomed brighter, as a new draft of wind whipped through their hair. Their skin glowed in the sunlight, and Yongguk set the laughing nymph down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. They exchanged a few words, eyes never leaving each other as they spoke.

Youngjae almost felt guilty when he had to ruin their moment, stepping out sheepishly from the forest. He seriously wondered how they had gotten so close so quickly.

Yongguk looked up immediately, sensing a shift in the environment, and Junhong followed his gaze moments later. The nymph’s surprised expression soon turned into one of confusion, and then he looked unimpressed.

“Youngjae,” he started, and the human shook his head.

“No, I went back,” he cut in. “And Daehyun… was in my house. He said there will be a hunt again, tomorrow, but he will not tell his father of you, or of Lord Yongguk.”

Yongguk looked worried, his hand holding Junhong’s waist firmly.

“I see,” Junhong said quietly.

“Please be careful,” Youngjae begged desperately. “Three months alone without you was difficult enough, I couldn’t…”

“Nothing will happen to him,” Yongguk said firmly, as a comfort for both Youngjae and Junhong. “I will visit him every night to ensure that he is safe. Besides, Haseul will spend most of the daytime here, with both of you. She can keep you safe.” Youngjae felt himself relax, even if he knew Yongguk was mostly talking to Junhong.

Youngjae had heard of Haseul last night, during Junhong’s tired ramblings. The nymph had mumbled that she was going to teach him how to grow flowers, and fruits, so he wouldn’t go hungry during the winter. The human doubted that he would be able to learn any skills, even with Junhong’s and Haseul’s talent with nature, but he was willing to try for the village.

“When will she arrive?”  Youngjae asked, and Yongguk looked at Junhong.

“I could invite her now, if you wish,” he looked back at Youngjae. “Perhaps you would like to rest more?”

“I am fine,” the human answered, shrugging lightly. He wouldn’t be able to sleep now, anyway. Junhong gave Yongguk an encouraging look, and the god squeezed his shoulder.

“I will be back in moments,” he promised, kissing Junhong’s cheek before he disappeared.

Youngjae felt his body fill with relief as soon as he knew they were alone. He liked Yongguk _immensely_ – there was no one else he would prefer as his best friend’s lover – but being with Junhong alone was more comfortable. He was sure it would be as comfortable with Yongguk too, eventually, but that would take some time.

As the nymph reached out to ruffle his hair, Youngjae knew that he would have to get used to other people being around, especially Yongguk. Junhong had found his soulmate, and he was content.

The human reached out to give him a hug, knowing that they had hugged more in the past day than ever before. “I’m happy you’re happy, Junhong,” he said quietly, hoping the nymph wouldn’t pull away.

Junhong hugged him back tightly. “You will be too. Soon.”

Youngjae took comfort in how Junhong said it like a promise.

 

The human was pleasantly surprised when he met Haseul and found that growing flowers was easier than he thought it would be. In their first meeting, she produced hundreds of seeds, and encouraged him to bury them in a sunny patch in the forest. She didn’t explain why but told him to water them for the next two days.

Junhong was always by his side, watching him curiously, as he watered the buried seeds, and watched along him in amazement as the seeds became sprouts. Within a mere week, they had grown into budding stalks, ready to bear fruit.

Haseul had explained that the seeds only needed water and sunlight to grow, and she suspected that Junhong’s flowers were the same. So, as Youngjae was tasked with watering and caring for thousands of plants throughout the day, Haseul encouraged Junhong to create some seeds of his own.

In weeks, they had already started a comfortable pattern. Youngjae withdrew from the village, only returning in the late night to sleep and waking early to see Haseul and Junhong. His few months with them had been calm and peaceful, and he treasured each day without the villagers, especially Daehyun.

“Is Lord Yongguk coming by tonight?” Youngjae asked, as he tilted a bowl of water over some strawberry seedlings. Haseul had let him try a variety of fruits a few weeks ago, to encourage him to grow the plants, and he was definitely anticipating the strawberries the most.

Junhong was leaning against a tree, staring intently at his palm. “Yeah,” he said distractedly. “He will be here soon, actually.”

Youngjae nodded and returned to watering his plants, not seeing Junhong’s eyebrows furrow and his mouth flatten in frustration. “I have tried making these seeds for weeks,” he muttered. “Nothing has happened!”

“Haseul said these things take time,” Youngjae looked at him, surprised to see the nymph getting worked up. “It took you _years_ to learn how to make fruit, after all.”

Junhong sighed loudly, and dropped his hand, giving up.

Youngjae tilted his head, setting down the bowl of water and walking over to where Junhong was standing. Even though they were in the forest, rays of sunlight shone through the tree branches, so the human took relief in the shade the tree provided. “The seeds are not so different from your flowers.”

“I know,” the nymph said, almost disappointedly. Flowers were all he knew, but he could not even make their seeds. “But these are so much harder to make.”

“Are you trying to make seeds?” Youngjae asked.

Junhong gave him an incredulous look, “Did you just forget our conversation? Of course I am, Youngjae.”

“The seeds are not different from your flowers,” Youngjae said slowly. “Do not convince yourself that they are completely different. Both have life, after all.”

Junhong blinked, slowly registering the human’s words, and he lifted his palm, ready to try once more. He focused on his closed fingers, imagining a flower growing inside a small, round seed. Its petals were a pale white, the same as his favourite flower, the one that reminded him of his lover.

Junhong wanted his first grown flower to be Yongguk’s.

He opened his eyes, and slowly unfurled his fingers, his lips curving into a smile when he saw a single seed. It was not perfect, and had been severely flattened on one side, but as soon as he saw it, the nymph felt his heart surge. He looked at the wide-eyed Youngjae, who was at him in shock.

“I have a long way to go,” he laughed when the human cheered loudly, congratulating him and praising him for his success. “Haseul created hundreds in one try!”

“You are incredible,” Youngjae’s grin was almost blinding. There was no shortage of admiration as he looked up at the nymph, and back at the seed in his palm. Junhong returned his smile and walked past the strawberry plants were, towards a large, square patch of grass.

He could imagine what the area would look like in a few weeks’ time; he hoped that before long, hundreds of _grown_ white flowers would fill the forest, reminding him every day of his lover. The nymph smiled, just thinking about it, and turned to his best friend.

“Before this week’s end, I will be as gifted as Haseul,” he said confidently, feeling a burst of hope. In his hands, he created another seed, which sat beside the first. Their life pulsated in his hand, and he closed his fingers around them, promising himself that when he finished, it would be the most beautiful garden in the forest.

 

The truth was, he could finish the garden in a second and it would look just as good as if he grew it.

It would be easy, too. He could snap his fingers and the white flowers would already be waving in the wind, waiting for Yongguk.

But growing them himself, raising them from the soil with only sun, water and time, would mean so much more. Not only for Yongguk, but for himself as well. He had never been able to do anything truly _special_ for the god, in return for the endless jewels and gold Yongguk presented him with.

The nymph spent every waking moment creating seeds, until he had filled multiple of Youngjae’s bowls with hundreds of them. As soon as he finished, he had Youngjae teach him how to bury each one, and water them all with fresh spring water. At the end of it all, Junhong was sweating from standing out in the sun, but he had a wide grin on his face.

“Let’s not tell Yongguk of this until they have grown,” he said to Youngjae excitedly, trying to imagine Yongguk’s reaction when he saw the new flowers. Would the god be pleased? Or would he not care if they were grown?

The human looked back at him, seeing the hope in the nymph’s eyes, and agreed immediately.

In the meantime, Yongguk came over every evening, often a few hours before Youngjae returned to his village. He would ask what the two did during the day, and both of them would reply vaguely about growing flowers and fruits, but they never told them where. Youngjae, from his position against the pomegranate tree, would look over and see Junhong nestled in Yongguk’s hold, eyes sparkling with the mirth of keeping a secret.

“What’s gotten you so happy?” Yongguk asked one day, his fingers dancing over Junhong’s cheek as the nymph rested his head on the god’s lap. Youngjae was busy threading flowers together, creating a long chain which would eventually hang from the tree, but he looked up to see Junhong’s reply.

The flowers were all budding this morning and would undoubtedly bloom the next day. Junhong looked up at the god and smiled softly but did not answer his question. “Will you be here tomorrow, at the same time?”

Yongguk leaned back, resting his weight on two hands behind him to think, before replying apologetically, “Perhaps a bit later, after the moon has risen.”

Now, the sun was setting below the trees in the distance. Junhong imagined how the garden would look, with the moon shining down on the white flowers, their petals luminous. Perhaps it would look even more romantic. He could feel his heart flutter in his chest just thinking about it.

“Sounds perfect,” he said dreamily, smiling when Yongguk leaned over to peck his nose.

“I will definitely come,” he reminded the nymph, but could not stop looking at him affectionately. “But if it is too late, do not wait for me. I will find you,” he promised, and Junhong nodded, knowing Yongguk never went back on his word.

They had only met half a year ago, but there was nobody whom Junhong trusted more.

 

“You should go home, it’s getting late,” Junhong urged Youngjae, seeing the human shake his head immediately. The moon was hanging low in the sky, which was clear of any clouds. The nymph frowned, and Youngjae walked over, carefully avoiding any flowers.

“I wish to accompany you,” he said happily, looking over the nymph’s work. The white flowers filled the space, the tallest coming up to their knees. Even when growing plants, Junhong was so much more gifted than Youngjae was. The nymph could hear the flowers’ songs and listened to whether they were thirsty or too cold. Youngjae couldn’t, so his plants took longer to take root.

Junhong crouched to look at the flowers closely. Unlike the ones he created, they had all grown and sprouted at different times, so they were all different heights; but he thought the lack of uniformity was beautiful. It seemed more natural, like the flowers had their own freedom.

He hoped Yongguk would think the same.

He straightened a flower’s stalk and went through all of them, preparing each for Yongguk’s visit. Time passed by quickly as both Junhong and Youngjae looked after their garden in the darkness.

Junhong felt a frown form on his face after an hour, when Yongguk still had not appeared. The moon was now at its highest, and it was well past midnight.

He didn’t doubt that Yongguk would arrive, but he was worried about what could be keeping him for so long.

He heard a yelp and turned just in time to see a spooked deer barrel into Youngjae, knocking the small human over onto a patch of Junhong’s flowers. Junhong hurried over, reaching out a hand to the doe, calming her down by running his hand between her ears. With his other hand, he helped Youngjae up, who was tense and looking around nervously.

“Junhong, why would she be running?” Youngjae whispered, as the nymph looked up in curiosity. The animals were wild, they had always acted like this, as far as he knew. They were free to run around and play with each other. The human shook his head, when Junhong told him this. His voice was panicked, “ _No_ , Junhong. She’s scared.”

Junhong looked at the doe and frowned, seeing that Youngjae was correct.

They both froze when they heard a rustling sound from the bushes, which made her bolt immediately. Youngjae instinctively shoved Junhong away.

“Run!” he shouted, recognising the face that appeared from behind a tree. He grabbed Junhong’s arms, pulling him along as he sprinted for cover.

Youngjae barely made it a metre before he felt Junhong slow behind him, his footsteps stuttering. He turned, eyes widening in horror as he saw red bloom through the back of the nymph’s pure white shirt, his entire body going cold when he heard a quiet gasp leave Junhong’s mouth. The nymph stumbled and fell to his knees, his hand weakly lifting behind him, reaching for the arrow.

“Fuck,” Youngjae blinked through tears that were already surfacing. Through his periphery, he could see Sanghyun approaching – a cocky smirk on his face – but he didn’t care, dropping to his knees beside the fallen nymph. Even through Junhong’s shirt, the metal arrow pierced through his left side.

Sanghyun always was a good shot; he was the village’s best hunter. Even though he shot from Junhong’s back, there was no doubt that the arrow had pierced Junhong deep. Blood seeped from the wound, through his shirt, and dripped onto the ground.

Youngjae had never been so horrified.

“No, no, no,” he whispered desperately. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay, Junhong. Yongguk won’t let you die.” He held Junhong’s hand tightly, making sure it was still warm, “Yongguk will come soon. He will. He will kill Sanghyun for doing this.” With his spare hand, the human wiped his eyes. “Junhong, you _won’t_ die,” he said fiercely, hoping that this was one promise he could keep.

Junhong looked at him, his own eyes wet with tears.

“M’forest,” he whispered, his own hold on Youngjae’s hand weakening. “Look after it.”

Sanghyun finally approached, easily lifting Youngjae up by the collar of his shirt, and throwing him backwards, towards the rest of his hunting group. Youngjae had not even realised there were others.

“A nymph?” the man said, looking over Junhong. Junhong tried to crawl away with what little energy he had left, but all of his blood was being drained from the wound. Before he could move too far, Sanghyun delivered a kick to his stomach, sending him sprawling on his back.

Youngjae screamed, struggling to escape the tight hold on his arms. He thrashed, hot and angry tears rushing down his cheeks.

The nymph had never looked so small, curling up under Sanghyun.

“Please,” Youngjae begged, his voice raw from how loud he was shouting. “You can’t do this, Sanghyun. Lord Yongguk is his lover. He will _destroy_ you.”

“I suppose I should put him out of his misery,” the man said, ignoring the boy. He picked up the bloody arrow from beside the nymph, his finger tracing through the blood on the tip. Junhong was shocked silent, eyes filled with fear, as he stared helplessly at the man above him. Sanghyun smirked, seeing the terror in his eyes, and the tremble in his bones.

“Do not forget, Youngjae,” the man sang, eyes flickering towards the struggling human. “You will be executed for your crime against the village.”

“I don’t know him. He is a stranger to me,” Junhong rasped, and Youngjae snapped his head towards him. Even _now_ , the nymph was trying to protect him.

Youngjae’s scream rang through the forest when Sanghyun slammed the arrow down, and Junhong stopped breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yongguk is the literal god of death; this isn't the end!


	9. Spring 3/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yongguk had never thought this would happen. He had promised to keep Junhong safe – and less than three months after Junhong was released from the Underworld, he was back again.

Youngjae’s sobbing could not stop, even when he was thrown into an isolated room, with a promise of his execution tomorrow. He could not even care – if he died, he could see Junhong again, in Asphodel.

He just hoped that Lord Yongguk would avenge the nymph.

He did not look up when he heard the door open, hours after he had first been thrown in. It was now early morning, and he had no doubt that the news had spread through the village like wildfire, even so late at night. The last living nymph, murdered by the village leader’s son. Sanghyun was likely to be praised by the villagers, and a festival would be planned in his honour as well.

“Youngjae,” he heard a soft voice call. He froze as soon as he recognised it.

He hiccupped, scrambling further away from the door. He did not want to see Daehyun now, especially since the other man was probably the one who tipped Sanghyun off. The human was shuddering, curling up as he heard the approach, bare feet . The footsteps stopped halfway across the room.

“Your execution is scheduled for noon today,” Daehyun said quietly.

Youngjae wondered what Daehyun thought, when he saw him. Did he pity him? Or did he view him as a monster, like his brother did, for befriending a forest nymph?

Youngjae pulled his knees up protectively, looking up defiantly at the other man. He had no choice – he could listen to Daehyun brag that he was right, but he would not agree. Daehyun was not the man he befriended months ago, or the boy he fell in love with when he was a child.

The man stared at him, dark eyes filled with pity. Youngjae glared at him, but his mouth opened when Daehyun knelt down, meeting him at eye level.

“I will let you free,” he whispered, looking back at the door as if afraid someone could hear him. “I do not believe that killing _anyone_ is right, let alone someone whom you consider your best friend.”

Youngjae sniffled and wiped his eyes.

“I am fine, Daehyun,” he replied stiffly, not wanting to accept the other’s words. He could not forgive Daehyun for what he did. “I do not want to live with a village like yours.”

“I will change them,” the man said passionately. “When my father steps down, I will overtake Sanghyun.”

“Even if the people change, there are no more nymphs,” Youngjae said, his voice thick with emotion. He was trying his hardest not to break. “You helped your brother kill him.”

Daehyun’s frown deepened, “I did not break my promise, Youngjae. I never told Sanghyun where you were; he found out himself, when he was night-hunting.” The man moved closer, wishing he could comfort Youngjae somehow. “I am sorry, for what I said, that time on the beach. I was ignorant, and blindly believed what my father taught me.” He reached his hand out but stopped before touching the other boy. It was a simple offer, but he did not wish to pressure him.

“Let us leave, together,” he said quietly. “We can move to another village or live in the forests – I don’t care where.”

“You should leave,” Youngjae murmured, not taking the other’s hand. He had not forgiven the other man yet. There was no one in the world he could trust right now. “Lord Yongguk will undoubtedly avenge his lover, and the village will be a pile of ashes by the time he is finished.”

“Will he come before noon?” Daehyun asked sceptically but quietened when Youngjae glared at him. He pulled his hand back, understanding than the other man did not want to leave.

“I will wait for him,” Youngjae stated, crossing his arms. He looked at Daehyun coldly, “You are free to leave alone, if you wish.”

The other man stared at him, and Youngjae wondered if he was thinking about leaving. After a few moments, Daehyun silently sat next to him, his back hitting the wall behind them.

“You have five hours,” Daehyun said quietly, and looked at the boy beside him. Youngjae was still curled up, and he rested his head on his knees. He did not feel like speaking, at all, but it seemed like Daehyun did not realise this.

“You must love him a lot,” the man whispered, seeing how determined the younger was to stay.

“...He was there for me when you weren’t,” Youngjae mumbled, not looking at the other man anymore. If Daehyun really wanted him to forgive him, he would accept his mistakes and stay. Even as he hid his face, Youngjae was waiting for Daehyun to say something sharp and leave, but as the minutes passed, Daehyun’s warm body remained beside his.

He lifted his head slowly, only to see that Daehyun’s eyes were already on his.

He didn’t say anything, but Youngjae appreciated the silence.

 

The hours Yongguk spent cradling his lover’s lifeless body felt like the longest hours of his life. He had not yet wept, for he knew that he and Junhong could still be together, nor had he formed a plan to destroy his murderer. He could wait for that. For now, he had to wait for his lover to wake.

Junhong was pale before, but his skin was now deathly white, contrasting with the black fabric that hung off his willowy body. Yongguk could not stand to see Junhong’s blood splattered over his white clothes and had dressed him in some of the Underworld’s silks.

Yongguk had never thought this would happen. He had _promised_ to keep Junhong safe – and less than three months after Junhong was released from the Underworld, he was back again. Yongguk’s eyes were dark with regret as he gazed upon his lover, simply waiting.

What felt like an eternity later, the god saw the boy’s eyelashes flutter and he awoke with a gasp, his chest heaving once again. The god tensed, cradling his body closer, and Junhong breathed heavily, turning his head slightly to face Yongguk.

“I... am dead?” he whispered, lifting his hand to his chest. His heart was no longer beating, and his wound was no longer bleeding.

The god lowered his head, unable to look his beloved nymph in the eye, “I am sorry I was not there.” His voice was thick with shame and regret, but he felt Junhong’s pale hand caress his cheek. He lifted the nymph in his arms, pulling him into a tight embrace. “It will never happen again. I will _never_ leave your side again,” his body shuddered with the memory of what had happened hours ago. Junhong’s body would have been across the river by now, in Asphodel, if Jongup had not realised that he had died and halted his transportation. The messenger had him sent back to Yongguk’s palace, where he would stay.

Now Junhong was dead, he could not leave the Underworld – but he could remain in Yongguk’s castle instead of Asphodel. Even if he was dead, they could still be together.

“I am happy I have you,” the young nymph murmured, his eyes meeting the god’s. Yongguk’s eyes were already pricking with unshed tears at the thought of losing Junhong. It had been so _close_...

Junhong knocked their heads together, and the tears in Yongguk’s eyes finally spilled over. “We’re safe now,” the nymph said softly, his lips brushing over Yongguk’s. Yongguk grasped the nymph tightly, making sure he was still in his arms.

“I love you so much more than you know,” Yongguk whispered, as if a loud noise would scare Junhong away. “I would not be able to _live_ if you...” he didn’t finish his sentence, choking up.

Junhong cupped the god’s face, “That will not happen again,” he said firmly. “We will be wed, remember?”

Yongguk froze in his hold.

The living could not marry the dead. It was impossible – especially since Yongguk’s wedding had to be officiated in Olympus. The moment someone dead left the Underworld, they disappeared. They could no longer exist in the Underworld, Seas or Skies, or on the Surface.

Junhong and Yongguk could never be married, now.

The realisation crashed into him like a cold wave, but he did not have the heart to tell his lover the truth.

“Of course we will be,” the man murmured, and Junhong smiled.

“Then I am happy,” he said brightly, but Yongguk could not return his expression. He did not know how Junhong would react, when it finally dawned on him that he could not return to the Surface, to his forest. To his home.

Junhong swung his legs over Yongguk’s and leaned back, relaxing into the bed.

He had not yet realised that it was Yongguk’s bed, but Yongguk knew he was certain to blush when it registered. They had only shared a bed once before, although their ventures in the forest had sometimes come close.

Yongguk felt his heart seize when he felt Junhong tense above him, and the nymph suddenly scrambled to hold him tight, his grip still weak. His eyes were wide open, words flying out of his mouth, “My Lord, you must save Youngjae. The village has threatened to execute him. I had forgotten–”

Yongguk saw the desperation in Junhong’s eyes and nodded. He never wanted to see Junhong so afraid, ever again. With his arm, he held the nymph close as he called for his messenger.

“Jongup,” he spoke into the empty air, feeling the air shift when Jongup appeared behind him. He was as prompt and dutiful as always, and Yongguk turned his head to face his trusted messenger. “Retrieve Youngjae from the Surface and bring him here.”

“Yes, my lord,” Jongup said obediently, his eyes gazing over Junhong. The nymph had not seen the messenger in months, but he understood the concern in his eyes. Junhong mouthed a silent thank-you, and Jongup tilted his head, looking at Yongguk and back at the door.

Yongguk nodded his head in response, “He can come in, but tell him to be gentle.”

Jongup nodded sharply and disappeared.

A few seconds later, Himchan burst into the room, making his way to Junhong to cup his face in worry. Yongguk was watching them carefully, to make sure Himchan didn’t accidentally disturb his wound, but the Atlantean avoided Junhong’s chest completely. He could not heal the wound, now that Junhong was dead.

“Are you alright, young nymph?” he cried, and Junhong cracked a smile at the familiarity of his friend.

“I am dead, but I am fine,” he answered honestly, letting Himchan pinch his cheeks without saying a word. The Atlantean had worried about him for hours, having heard the news from Jongup, but he wasn’t allowed to see him until now.

“We will see more of each other, now,” Himchan smiled kindly, and Junhong reached over to give him a hug.

“I’ve missed you,” the nymph murmured quietly, sighing happily when Himchan hugged him back. The Atlantean truly felt like an older brother to him now, especially since he looked after him as much as Junseo did.

Yongguk felt his heart size with fondness as he looked at the two – with so much affection that he almost forgot about his rage towards the villagers.

 

The door slammed open and Daehyun jumped up to his feet, Youngjae following quickly.

“What are you doing here, you fool?” Sanghyun snarled in his direction. Daehyun immediately held Youngjae’s hand for protection, moving in front of the younger boy.

“What are yo _u_ doing here?” Daehyun snapped in reply, looking at his brother. Sanghyun was both taller and broader, but the younger brother didn’t back down as he approached, even as Youngjae shrunk back.

“It’s noon,” the man replied, holding his hand out. “Give him to me.”

Youngjae’s eyes widened – he didn’t think this would actually happen.

“We should wait,” Daehyun said sharply, his shoulders straightening as he stared down his brother. He held his hands behind his back, not wanting Sanghyun to see his perspiring hands. “He speaks of Lord Death and the murdered nymph being lovers. We cannot risk killing him too.”

He felt thin fingers clasp into his from behind, but he did not turn around to look at Youngjae. He could not risk his brother finding out about their friendship.

Sanghyun raised an unimpressed brow, “He is lying, for more time. You should not let this orphan trick you, Daehyun – it is not possible for the Lord of Death to love a mortal, let alone a _nymph,_ nor would he be loved in return. Now, hurry and give the orphan to me.”

Daehyun swallowed, and glanced at Youngjae.

“No,” he said, his voice loud in the silence of the room. “He is innocent, Sanghyun.”

Sanghyun narrowed his eyes, muttering under his breath about how weak his brother was before striding forward and ripping the two apart from each other. Youngjae tried his best to keep Daehyun’s hand in his, but Sanghyun was much stronger than the both of them. When Daehyun reached out for him, Sanghyun knocked him aside as if he weighed nothing and he crashed into the walls, his body folding into two.

“Daehyun!” Youngjae cried, struggling against Sanghyun’s grip. He wanted – _needed_ – to make sure Daehyun was okay.

“Time to die, orphan,” Sanghyun told Youngjae sadistically, as he pulled him towards the door without sparing a second glance at his brother. Outside, there was a group of people waiting for the execution – and he had a feast planned for tonight. He was _glorious._

Before Youngjae even left the hut, a hand grabbed his arm, pulling him back easily. Sanghyun growled, turning around and ready to yell at his brother, but was shocked by a furious messenger, whose strength easily overtook his own.

Without a word, Jongup tore Youngjae away from Sanghyun’s hold, and the human ran towards Daehyun, falling to his knees and checking if he was okay.

Jongup stared at the murderer in front of him, his irises the colour of blood.

“Who are you?” Sanghyun said, his voice filled with anxiety. His clothes were black – and his eyes couldn’t be human. “You are not Lord Yongguk,” the man said accusingly, trying to convince himself that the other man was not a god. But his clothes were from the Underworld.

Jongup did not dignify him with a response, striding forward to grip his wrist and snap it in two.

Sanghyun released a blood curling scream and pulled his hand back with all of his strength, stumbling out of the hut as fast as he could. Jongup stared at him as he left, but turned around instead of following.

Yongguk would have the honor of killing him; Jongup did not want to take his revenge away from him.

“Come with me,” he said quietly to Youngjae, holding out his hand.

Youngjae looked reluctantly at the man, and then back to Daehyun, who had hit the wall head-first and fainted.

“Let him come too,” he begged, clasping onto the unconscious man’s hand. “I will feel guilty if his brother comes back and sees him here. Lord Jongup, please.”

“I cannot guarantee his safety from Lord Yongguk’s wrath,” Jongup replied, the longest sentence Youngjae had ever heard him say. The messenger glanced towards the door, hearing footsteps approach and extended his hand further.

Holding Daehyun’s hand in one of his, Youngjae reached out to take Jongup’s. He felt the messenger god’s hand grasp his firmly, and the three of them disappeared as Daehyun’s father threw the door open, wielding a sword.

Youngjae froze, but when he blinked he was already in the Underworld. He squinted his eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden darkness. They were inside a castle, hard floor against his bare feet. Jongup disappeared moments later, leaving Youngjae alone to look around. He turned, tilting his head up to look at the floor above, but there was no one else in sight.

He steadied Daehyun against him, glad that the other man was still breathing, even if he wasn’t conscious. Junhong had told him often about Himchan, Yongguk’s trusted healer and Jongup’s lover. Youngjae hoped he would agree to care for Daehyun. Youngjae hugged Daehyun closer to him, nervous in the unfamiliar environment.

The air was cooler here, and he shivered. He wasn’t cold – but he was scared. Most people only ever entered the Underworld once.

When Jongup returned moments later, he was with Yongguk, Junhong and a beautiful man Youngjae guessed was Himchan. The human was too shocked at the sight of the pale nymph to rush forward and embrace him – he had never seen Junhong in anything but his white clothes, but dressed in all black... He looked like he belonged with Yongguk.

“You’re alive,” the human breathed, as Junhong surged forward to hug him tightly. Youngjae’s grip on Daehyun almost loosened, but Jongup was by his side an instant, taking the other human and settling him down. The man Youngjae didn’t recognise – Himchan – walked over to examine the human who had fainted.

“I am dead,” Junhong said finally, still not releasing him, “but I am well. I cannot believe you are here!”

Youngjae smiled wryly at him, patting the other man’s arms, as if checking he was actually in front of him. Junhong’s attention quickly shifted to the fainted Daehyun, who was slumped in a chair. Youngjae hurried over to see him, eyes widening when he saw Himchan’s hands glowing.

“Is that the prince?” Junhong asked excitedly, walking closer to peer at his face. He looked impressed, nodding to himself. “You did well, Youngjae. He is very handsome.”

The human blushed red and elbowed him.

Only Jongup saw Yongguk grumble to himself, a frown on his face, and the messenger god turned his head to hide a smirk. Having the most beautiful man alive as his lover meant he was used to concealing his jealousy, but it seemed that Yongguk had not yet learnt how.

“Is he going to be alright?” Youngjae asked Himchan worriedly. “He took a hit to a concrete wall, head-first.”

“He will be fine with some rest,” the half-god said, smiling kindly at the human. “I’m Himchan.”

“Youngjae,” the human returned meekly. He had never seen someone as beautiful as the other.

Himchan’s hands stopped glowing, and Daehyun slumped down even more. “Jongup will bring him to a room. You are welcome to accompany him too, if you wish.”

Youngjae nodded, and Junhong tilted his head. “Can I come too?”

No one answered, not knowing who he was asking.

“Of course,” Yongguk spoke, after a pause. He tilted his head to kiss the nymph, “Jongup, Himchan and I will stay here, if you need anything. We will be discussing our plans for the village.”

Junhong nodded, his eyes saddening, and he lifted his hand to his wound on his chest. “Please avenge my _nymphai,_ my lord,” he whispered quietly, curling his fingers into his own shirt.

Yongguk closed his eyes and nodded, trying not to show his anger. He was not only going to avenge Junhong’s _nymphai_ , but Junhong himself – the village should have listened when Youngjae had told them they were lovers. Now, they were only going to regret their actions.

“We will discuss Daehyun’s fate when he wakes,” Yongguk said to Youngjae, before excusing himself. He disappeared without looking at any of them, even his beloved nymph.

Himchan and Jongup shared a knowing look, and the half-god patted Youngjae’s shoulder. “We must go after him. Junhong, may you bring them up to a spare room? Any one is fine,” Himchan said, and the nymph nodded, even if he was still staring at the place where the god had disappeared.

 

Daehyun groaned, blinking his eyes open. He did not recognise the dark room, but he could hear muffled talking, which immediately quietened when he forced himself up.

His eyes sought for Youngjae, and he immediately relaxed when Youngjae sat next to him on the bed.

“Are we dead?” the man whispered fearfully, holding onto the other boy’s hands. He had hoped that they could both live, together. If only they had run away into the forests – if only Youngjae had wanted to go.

“We are not dead, just in the Underworld,” Youngjae said softly, brushing Daehyun’s hair aside from his forehead. He was sweating profusely, but felt his heart pounding in his chest and relaxed immediately.

The man next to Youngjae was staring at him in complete silence, his mouth slightly open. Daehyun had never seen him before, but he immediately knew who he was.

“You’re the nymph,” he murmured, suddenly embarrassed he had never learnt his name. He had never even bothered to ask.

And he looked so _human_. There was really no difference between the nymph and Youngjae, other than the fact that the nymph towered above the boy. Daehyun swallowed, seeing the nymph stare at him scrutinisingly, before he offered out a hand.

“My name is Junhong,” he said cheerfully. “I heard you looked after our Youngjae whilst I was here in the winter.”

“I’m Daehyun,” the human said quickly, hesitating for only a moment before taking his hand. Junhong didn’t seem to notice. “And... he looked after me.” He gazed at the other boy, who looked down shyly, playing with his fingers. Junhong was making quiet cooing noises, but stopped when Youngjae elbowed him in the side.

“Are you feeling alright?” Youngjae murmured quietly. “Lord Jongup’s lover healed you.”

Daehyun nodded, not knowing what to reply. He wasn’t there for Youngjae when they arrived, so he did not know whether they had been approached by the Lord of Death yet, or if they were waiting for their fate.

“So it’s true?” he asked Junhong. “You are the Lord of Death’s lover?”

Junhong nodded, and Daehyun asked curiously, “How do you know he truly loves you, if he cannot feel any emotions?”

“Daehyun!” Youngjae yelled, scandalised, and Junhong’s jaw tightened, as he stood up. The smile disappeared from his face.

“Almost everything you have ever heard about the Underworld, or about Lord Yongguk is false,” he said coldly. “Everything humans tell each other are lies, built upon hidden secrets and tricks. They are cruel to everything and everyone who is not one of their own, are you aware of that?” he snapped, and Daehyun’s eyes widened. Youngjae flinched, never having heard Junhong so angry before, but the nymph continued on. “I would highly recommend that, before you insult my lover in his home – where he has graciously welcomed you – you should think about who is in charge of your fate.”

“Junhong...” Youngjae mumbled, not knowing whose side he should be on.

“I cannot defend him if he offends Yongguk, Youngjae,” Junhong said in frustration. “I cannot forgive someone who hurts him.”

“He is new to this,” Youngjae sighed, casting a glance at the helpless-looking man in the bed. “Please forgive him, this once.”

Daehyun frowned, seeing the two argue. Junhong looked pensive, and he walked towards the door. “Go down and see Yongguk when you are ready. I will not tell him about what you just said, but from now on, your speech is your own responsibility.”

He left the room swiftly, the door closing with a quiet _clack_ that sounded ten times louder under the scrutiny of Youngjae’s gaze. The human leaned over to flick Daehyun’s head, chastising him, “Are you able to keep your mouth shut?” He huffed.

The man had the decency to look apologetic. “I am sorry.”

“Junhong is the kindest soul I have ever met, and you angered him seconds into your first meeting,” Youngjae hissed, but his anger was quickly being replaced with dread. “You will not _survive_ if you continue thinking about nymphs and gods like they are below you.”

“Of course _gods_ aren’t below humans,” Daehyun protested. Youngjae glared at him, and he amended his mistake. “I know nymphs aren’t, either. But I was raised thinking that nymphs like Junhong wanted to kill me, and that Lord Yongguk would not hesitate to kill anybody. I am terrified, here,” he mumbled suddenly. “Nothing is as I was taught.”

Youngjae softened, but he could not completely forgive the other human.

“I know they are not,” he agreed. “But Lord Yongguk is a kind god. One of the kindest. I am sure he will understand your predicament enough to forgive you, and the rest of the village.”

Daehyun could hear the other man’s voice thickening when he finished his sentence and he looked up. “...Do you believe that we deserve to be forgiven?”

Youngjae swallowed slowly, and he answered carefully. “If I was in Yongguk’s position, only two from the village would survive to see tomorrow.”

Daehyun exhaled heavily – but not out of relief. He did not know how he could handle the uncertainty of his fate.

“Let’s go,” he said bravely, pulling the sheets away and standing beside the bed. “We cannot keep the Lord of the Underworld waiting.”

“Of course not,” Youngjae mumbled, but when he looked up at the other human, he was trembling. He did not want to lose his second friend as well, but it wasn’t looking good.

Without a word, they linked hands and made their way downstairs, where Yongguk had said he would be.

Daehyun clutched Youngjae’s hand even harder as they descended the staircase, seeing the four at the very bottom. Yongguk and Jongup had looked at them for only a moment, but Junhong and Himchan had not noticed them yet.

“My lord,” Youngjae spoke first, and the Junhong and Himchan turned around in surprise. Junhong immediately faltered, but he gave the two of them a hopeful smile, and gave Yongguk a quick kiss on the cheek.

He may have whispered something else into his lover’s ear, but no one could hear it.

“Daehyun,” Yongguk said, before the human had even reached the bottom of the staircase. He immediately froze, unable to take another step, and Youngjae’s nails dug deep into his palm. “It is not you who is doomed.”

Youngjae inhaled sharply, and his grip instantly loosened on Daehyun’s hand. When he met Daehyun’s eyes, he was grinning brightly, but Daehyun was still in shock.

“W-What?”

“As much as I would love to destroy everyone and everything which has ever _stepped_ foot into that village, I cannot. It would not be fair,” the god explained, but the kindness of his words did not meet his eyes. He was staring at Daehyun like he was unimportant, like a mere insect. “The only people who I cannot promise life to, are the group who killed my nymph.”

Daehyun squeezed his eyes shut. Of course.

“I understand Junhong’s murderer is your brother?” Yongguk asked sharply, and Daehyun nodded tightly. “Then, do you have any protest?”

Youngjae gave him a pointed look, but Daehyun could not simply bite his lip shut and shake his head once. He never particularly liked his brother, but he did not want Sanghyun to _die._ He swallowed, knowing he was facing his death as he looked up at stared into Yongguk’s black eyes, devoid of any emotion.

“Of course I do not want my brother to _die_ ,” he said, voice hard. Yongguk’s jaw hardened, but Junhong placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I am not denying his guilt, Lord Yongguk. Believe me. Nor am I denying that he deserves to die. But I do not _want_ him to.”

Even with his hand curled into Yongguk’s sleeve, Junhong could not stop Yongguk from surging forward and seizing Daehyun by the neck, and snarling, “Your brother does not deserve to die. He deserves to _suffer._ ” The black of his pupils had seeped into the whites, and he looked crazed with rage, “I only wish there was somewhere worse than Tartarus for him to go.”

Daehyun flinched back, struggling to get out of the god’s hold.

“Let him _go_ , Yongguk,” Junhong ordered, grabbing his arm and pulling until all the strength in Yongguk’s in arm disappeared.

Daehyun scrambled back in fear, and Junhong pushed Yongguk back until he was no longer standing in front of the human. Daehyun avoided the nymph’s gaze, his heart pounding in his chest, and Junhong glared at his lover as he helped the human up.

“You need to control your anger,” he said curtly, suddenly looking exhausted. “Daehyun has done nothing to deserve your rage, or your force, Yongguk.” He sighed, but it was more tired than mean. “I thought you would know how to control your emotions by now.”

“I can hear everything that is said in this castle,” Yongguk said, but his voice was no longer a deep growl. It seemed like he was protesting instead. “I do not care about what he said about me, but he upset you.”

“If that is what you care about, then you should allow me to deal with it,” Junhong said, his tone gentle. Yongguk stared at the nymph, his eyes devoid of any emotion, before his eyes flickered to the human beside him.

Without a word, he disappeared from sight, surprising all of them but Jongup.

“We have some matters to discuss regarding care for Junhong’s forest,” Himchan said finally, carrying the discussion. “Yongguk called Haseul for a meeting, whilst you were unconscious,” he said to Daehyun. “The idea is that you and Youngjae look after the forest regularly, and in return, you will be granted entry into Elysium upon death,” he said, and both humans’ mouths dropped open.

“I-It would be an honour,” Youngjae spoke, and Daehyun could only nod – shocked from the previous events, and what Himchan had just said.

“Fantastic; come with me,” Himchan gestured, but he saw Junhong hesitate. “Junhong, go find Yongguk first. He is most likely sulking in...” he glanced at Jongup, who gave him a curt nod, “his room.”

Junhong faltered, but he could not deny that he was feeling guilty – was he too harsh on Yongguk?

“Will you be alright?” he asked Youngjae and the human just gestured for him to go.

“We will be fine,” Youngjae gave the nymph the smile, and Junhong immediately hurried up the staircase without a second thought.

Yongguk had been different since this morning, and they had just had their first fight. Junhong did not think that much would change, even after his death, but he was now worrying that he was wrong.

He had never thought about it before – but maybe Yongguk didn’t want him if he was dead. The god _did_ fall in love with the forest nymph, and Junhong couldn’t be a nymph, without his forest. Not anymore.

He didn’t want to go to Asphodel. He still had Youngjae, and Himchan. And _Yongguk_.

He didn’t want to truly _die._

But if Yongguk didn’t want him anymore, what would happen?


	10. Summer 1/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I lied to you, my lord,” Junhong said, trembling. “I miss my home. I miss my forest.”
> 
> Yongguk held him tightly. “You are miserable here,” he said dully.

“Yongguk,” Junhong called softly as he stepped inside the dark room. He could see a body in the bed, but Yongguk was on his stomach, his face in the pillows, not facing him. “My love, talk to me,” the nymph said, sitting on the bed and placing his hand in Yongguk’s dark hair.

Yongguk mumbled something quietly that Junhong couldn’t hear, and the nymph leaned closer. “Sorry?”

Suddenly, the god twisted his body and sat up, so he was eye-to-eye with Junhong. “I cannot control my anger when this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me,” he said, hands gripping onto the nymph’s, but not too tightly that it hurt. “I have _never_ been unable to protect someone I’ve cared about. And I have never cared about anybody as much as I love you, Junhong.” He said, eyes blazing with passion. “So, you must forgive me if I cannot tolerate _anybody_ who dares to harm you again, even if it is your feelings.”

Junhong took a shaky breath and leaned forward into Yongguk’s space to embrace him tightly.

“Daehyun does not mean to hurt me, nor you,” the nymph said, after Yongguk buried his face in his shoulder. “He is new to this, and scared of all of us.”

“I know,” Yongguk sighed. “I lost control.”

Junhong kissed his cheek, “That is okay as well. I know that this is difficult for you.” Yongguk still did not look up to meet his eyes, too ashamed of how he had been acting, and Junhong caressed his form, never letting go. The nymph apologised, his voice quietening. “I was harsh on you too. If anyone tried to hurt you, I think I would react the same.”

“I could never imagine you acting like that,” Yongguk said, finally looking up. Junhong was relieved to see an amused smile on his lips, and he nudged him teasingly.

“I would, you know. For you.”

“I know,” Yongguk said, his eyes fond as he looked at the nymph on his lap. “But be honest, my love, does the idea of staying here forever upset you?”  He knew Junhong would try and be as amicable as possible, but he couldn’t help but doubt the nymph’s honesty. After a while, when it sunk in that forever was _forever_ , Junhong would want to leave.

Junhong shook his head, and answered truthfully, “I am happy with you, Yongguk.”

“I see,” Yongguk murmured, wondering how he met such a pure, innocent nymph. He could not resist wrapping his arms around Junhong and turning, until the nymph was trapped under him and giggling. He hovered above Junhong, their lips almost touching.

“You make me do all the work,” was all Yongguk heard, before Junhong captured his lips with his own, an amused laugh leaving his mouth when he fell back against the bed.

Yongguk sighed and buried his face into Junhong’s neck, “Do not mention work, my love. There is so much I must undertake now.” He released an exhausted sigh, feeling Junhong’s hand dance over his back. The nymph did not reply, however, and Yongguk closed his eyes for a quick rest.

“...May I request something?” Junhong said quietly, before Yongguk dozed off. The god’s body woke up immediately, and he lifted himself so he could face the nymph.

“Anything,” Yongguk said earnestly, and Junhong frowned.

“Forgive me,” he started, “but I do not wish to have anything with Sanghyun, or his punishment, if that is okay. I do not want to know about what you choose to do with him.”

Yongguk couldn’t stop himself from arguing, “But they _hurt_ you, Junhong. They deserve to rot in hell _._ ” Junhong flinched, his eyes avoiding Yongguk’s. The man reached out to cup his cheek, but didn’t force him to look up. “What’s wrong, Jun?” he asked quietly, his resolve weakening when a tear ran down the young nymph’s cheek, and he squeezed his eyes shut to avoid looking at Yongguk.

“I am not stopping you from punishing him,” Junhong said quietly. “I just don’t want to be at fault,” he mumbled, his shoulders hunching over. “I don’t want to influence you to punish them more than they deserve.”

Yongguk winced and he gathered Junhong up in his arms, pressing kisses over the nymph’s neck. Junhong covered his face, too ashamed of his tears. “I am sorry,” he cried, finally speaking louder. “I know I should be braver, but I–” He hiccupped, and Yongguk rubbed his back soothingly.

“It is alright, do not cry,” the god said gently. Junhong sniffled, and the god suddenly realised that he was probably terrified of Sanghyun, after all the human had done. Even if Yongguk wanted to kill him, Junhong didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

“I am a god, Junhong,” Yongguk said finally. “It is up to me what they deserve. I will not tell you what their punishments are, and I will ask everyone else to respect that.” He repeated, “Please do not cry, my love.”

Junhong’s body trembled and shook his head, “I know...” he whispered again. “I wish I had run, or fought harder... If I was stronger, I could have stopped all of this.”

“Sweetling, it was not your fault,” Yongguk said firmly. “Even if you were sleeping in the middle of the village square, he should not have done that.”

Junhong hiccupped, but did not reply. Yongguk knew he did not believe him, and hugged him tighter. “My love, I am just relieved you are with me,” he said, rubbing his back. “And Youngjae is too. You may have died, but you are safe now, are you not?”

Junhong nodded, and sniffled again. Yongguk’s heart broke – he had seen Junhong cry once before, back when he was alive and had been trapped in the Underworld for the first time. It seemed the only thing that could stop Junhong from smiling was Yongguk’s home.

His arms tightened around the nymph when Junhong buried his face into his neck.

“Sweetheart,” the man soothed, his deep voice making Junhong close his eyes. He always felt safe around the god. “How about we try some of those delicacies you were looking forward too?” he suggested, already making plans in his mind. The gold-dusted cake, the fluffy bread, and a wide assortment of fruits would be easy to get, he would just have to summon some chefs from Olympus. “Youngjae and Daehyun cannot have any, but you may.”

The nymph nodded timidly, and Yongguk moved to stand, extending his hand out. “Come, Himchan will be excited for his favourite meals as well.”

“Yeah,” Junhong spoke quietly, his voice small. He mustered a shaky smile and took the god’s hand.

Yongguk returned the smile, hoping to settle the nymph’s nerves.

Sanghyun’s punishment could wait – the suspense would only add to his pain. He already had an idea planned in his head for that as well; one that would not only send Sanghyun to Tartarus, but also teach the entire village a lesson.

Yongguk was angry, but he knew that his feelings were not the priority here – he could hold it off until he was sure Junhong was safe, and happy.

The nymph always came first, after all.

 

Three days later, when Junhong had settled down, Yongguk finished his plan after consulting with Jongup. Jongup was surprisingly vicious – he had wanted to burn down the entire village – but Yongguk knew he had to remain level-headed. He supposed if anything like that happened to Himchan, Jongup would go insane.

Once he finished the plan, Yongguk went to Olympus to request Natasha’s approval, as a formality. He already knew that she would agree. She was just as bloodthirsty as he was – wanting revenge for the nymph she already viewed as a younger brother.

The goddess looked at him worriedly from across the long table, “Are you sure you are alright, Yongguk? I know you love your forest nymph very much. You must be filled with rage.”

“I was,” he said honestly, and his shoulders dropped. “But Junhong... he is mourning. He lost his home.”

Natasha nodded in understanding, her eyes filled with sympathy. She had only met the nymph a few times, but had grown to love him as well – the thought of him dying, even if he was still alive in the Underworld, was a tragedy.

Yongguk’s fists clenched and he stared down at the wooden table. “He is unhappy, and I cannot do anything about it, Natasha.”

“He will grow to love the Underworld,” Natasha said, and Yongguk shook his head.

“How can a nymph so full of life grow to love a place so dead?” he snapped, but he was not truly angry with her. She wasn’t the one who caused this. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but he was still tensed. “Yongnam was right, you know. The Underworld is hell.”

“The Underworld is also heaven,” Natasha said gently, knowing how to console her younger brother. “And everything in between. The Underworld is not good, or bad – it is just what comes after.”

“Junhong was not meant to have his _after_ yet,” Yongguk spoke, his voice haunted. He looked up at Natasha. “He was meant to live.”

 

Yongguk never spoke of his breakdown in Olympus to anyone, ever again. The only one who even knew it happened was his sister, and she never told anybody of it.

He felt his feet hit the earth and he took a deep breath, looking around the forest. He had not wanted to return after Junhong’s death, but still felt a pull towards it. It was Junhong’s home, and the place where they had spent their happiest moments together; the beginning of their friendship and courtship had started here.

He walked through the forest, to where Junhong had died that night, when Junhong had wanted him to meet him there in the evening, but Yongguk had been swamped with official business. Yongguk hadn’t been able to save him.

The god stepped over a log, and felt his breath leave him when he looked up.

The forest was covered in hundreds of white flowers – _his_ white flowers. He knew, without a doubt, that this is what Junhong had wanted to show him the night he died.

But what caught Yongguk’s eye, was the blood-red flowers that grew beside the patch of white, sprouting from the grass. They were younger than the white flowers, but already standing tall. When Yongguk neared them, he felt Death nearby, and he fell to his knees, beside the place his lover had died.

His hand reached out to hold one of the stalks, which had grown from Junhong’s blood, but he held himself back, not wanting to kill them with the sheer power of his rage and sorrow.

He stood up and walked back to the village slowly, each footstep creating an imprint on the ground with how heavy his steps were. He walked through the entrance of the village, not caring for the dozens of humans who froze and began whispering in a frenzy when they recognised his clothing – he didn’t care that they ran away screaming, or hid away in their huts.

He sought out the hut barricaded by steel poles, obviously for protection, and glared at them until they dismantled and flew apart. The wind was whipping around him, causing destruction to the huts around him – but he could not care.

He could not care for a village that had not cared for Junhong.

Yongguk heard a shout from inside and looked around, seeing a crowd slowly gather, when it became clear that he was not targeting the entire village, only Sanghyun.

He walked slowly into the hut, the door flying off its hinges as he neared, and splintering into a million pieces. He saw Sanghyun cower in the furthest corner of the room, cradling his broken arm in one hand, as his father stood in front of the god.

Yongguk looked at the older man, seeing how he was wielding a sword, and almost laughed.

The man lifted his weapon, but Yongguk stared at him until the sword became too heavy for him to hold, and the air became too thick for him to breathe, and he crumpled onto the floor like a sack of bricks. He could hardly lift his head to see what Yongguk did next.

The god walked to Sanghyun, seeing the man squeeze his eyes shut and snivel.

“I am so sorry, my lord, how would I _know_ that your lover was a nymph – he is a _nymph_! He is _evil_. I would never have thought someone like you, my lord, would love someone like that,” he babbled nervously, his eyes flickering from Yongguk, to his father. “Please, please don’t kill me like you killed my brother. He was precious to me and –and...”

Yongguk could not bare to hear his lies any longer and held Sanghyun’s broken arm, heaving him up with a force that made him groan. He dragged the human outside, to where there was a crowd waiting, fear palpable on their faces.

“Children and mothers must return to their huts,” he ordered, seeing a woman holding a baby in her arms. “But everyone else must remain here.”

Sanghyun winced, and Yongguk’s arm tightened around his wrist, crushing the bones into dust. He released a blood-curdling scream, and both children and mothers began hurrying back into their homes.

“This man, here,” Yongguk began, “will receive the biggest punishment I have ever unleashed onto a human.”

A gasp was shared by the villagers, and Sanghyun began trembling in fear.

“He killed an innocent nymph, my lover, Junhong.” Yongguk said, his eyes dark as he cast his gaze downwards towards the floor. “And for that, he and his hunting group, who restrained Youngjae from rescuing Junhong, will be sentenced to death immediately.”

Sanghyun actually sighed in relief, which made Yongguk bark out a laugh, “Oh, you think that is it, murderer? You think I will be so gracious as to offer you death alone?” he asked darkly, a smirk on his lips.

Dark clouds covered the sky upon Yongguk’s will, and he looked up at the rest of the villagers.

“This man has cursed your village for all of eternity,” he spoke, and the villagers’ eyes filled with panic. “For the entire villager’s prejudice against nymphs, you will all be sentenced to an unbearable fire every year, which will burn for three months. The sun will burn brighter, and the lakes will dry. You will all starve, for what you did to Junhong,” he snarled. “He should not have lived his life in hiding. He should not have been scared of humans. He should not have been _murdered_.”

His voice laced with vehemence, and a single wave of Yongguk’s arm sent Sanghyun’s hut crashing down, with his father still inside. He was sure the man was not dead, nor dying, but he deserved punishment for trying to harm Yongguk, no matter how futile the attempt would be.

“Every time your stomachs cry of hunger, or your throats scream of thirst, you should curse this man here, for bringing this upon your village,” Yongguk growled. “And you should blame yourselves, for forcing such cruelty onto an innocent nymph who was willing to live in peace.”

His eyes made contact with the two other hunters, in the audience. “I will come back in a week, to collect you two. If you try and fight, like his father did,” he gestured to the collapsed hut, “then I will increase your sentence.”

He grabbed Sanghyun’s wrist and disappeared from the villagers’ sights, not wanting them to witness the cruelty of the man’s execution.

Sanghyun crumpled to the forest floor and Yongguk snarled, “Look up and see the life and beauty that my lover created, every day of his life.”

He watched as the murderer struggled to lift his head, and changed his mind, pinning the man’s throat with a foot. “No. You should have seen it before you killed him. Do you know why I brought you here?” he asked the human, eyes completely black.

Sanghyun gasped, “I k-killed him here.”

“That’s right,” Yongguk said, his voice eerily quiet. “And now, you will feel every bit of pain and fear he did four nights ago.”

Yongguk may have moved Sanghyun out of sight from the villagers, but he was certain they could all hear Sanghyun’s screaming as Yongguk broke every bone in his body, before letting him bleed out in the very forest he killed Junhong in.

 

When Yongguk returned home, he was exhausted. He never liked executing people directly – he preferred to have them wait for their death, and then kill them. Rarely did he ever make an appearance in front of hundreds of humans, either. But obviously, he could not let Sanghyun live any longer, after what he did to Junhong.

He saw Himchan first when he entered the castle. The half-god was slumped on the stairs, looking half-dead. He had dark eyebags, and he was sweating like he had run a lap around all of the Underworld. Jongup was nowhere in sight, although Yongguk knew the messenger god would be worrying over his lover if he were here. Jongup was busy delivering Sanghyun to Tartarus instead, but would be back in an hour.

“Are you ill?” he called out to Himchan, his pace quickening as he walked to him.

He was not expecting the man to burst out in tears, crying and heaving large sobs.

“Are you hurt?” Yongguk asked, panicked. He was a second away from summoning Jongup, when the Atlantean shook his head and exhaled a shaky breath.

“Yongguk, I could not heal him,” Himchan said quietly. “I thought I could heal him from death, like my father, but... I will never be skilled enough,” he wiped his eyes. “Junhong was so hopeful – I know... I know he was trying not to pressure me, but he wanted to return to his forest.”

“You tried to heal him from death,” Yongguk said, shocked, and Himchan nodded.

“But I think it has been too long,” the half-god said sadly. “I am sorry. I have disappointed everyone.”

“Do not blame yourself, Himchan,” the god said, even though he was still reeling from the news. “Thank you for trying.” The half-god lowered his head, and Yongguk patted his shoulder. “Is Junhong okay? Was he upset?”

“He said he was not, but I think he is emotional...” Himchan mumbled, not looking up. “Go to him. He is in his room.”

“I will summon Jongup,” Yongguk called, as he began ascending the stairs. He could not wait to see his lover, especially if the nymph was upset. “You did well, Himchan. Thank you.”

The half-god shuddered, but said nothing.

Yongguk ran up the stairs towards Junhong’s room, his heart breaking when he heard broken wails. He couldn’t stop himself from throwing the door open, and his mouth fell open when he saw the destruction, with Junhong in the middle of it all. The nymph had frozen once he saw Yongguk, but broke down crying again once he got over his shock.

“Sweetheart,” Yongguk whispered as he made his way over to the nymph. To his horror, he realised that there were patches of ash all over the room – Junhong had to grow his flowers, but they had died the moment they sprouted, and fallen onto the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Junhong cried, covering his face with his hands. “My lord, I’m sorry. I-I,” his breaths were short, and Yongguk went to cradle him in his arms. He held the nymph tight to his chest, not caring that his tears were dampening his clothes. He could feel the younger’s breath fan against his neck as Junhong tried to calm himself, but ultimately failed.

He resorted to burying his face deeper into Yongguk’s neck, as if trying to hide himself from the world. He snuffled quietly.

“I lied to you, my lord,” he said, trembling. “I miss my home. I miss my forest.”

Yongguk did not move him, instead holding him tighter. “You are miserable here,” he said dully, and Junhong shook his head furiously.

“I am not miserable _here_ ,” the nymph denied, looking up at the god with wide, watery eyes. “I am upset that I lost my home. But I am not – I will _never_ be upset that you brought me here.” He swallowed, and rested his head on Yongguk’s neck. “If I cannot have my forest, it is a relief that I can have you.”

Yongguk swallowed thickly and nodded.

Junhong was happiest in his forest. Yongguk knew that. He wasn’t jealous, only angry that he had taken that away.

He sighed lightly and pressed a kiss to the other’s forehead. “Are you upset because Himchan tried to heal you?” he asked, wondering what had caused Junhong’s crying. He was fine when Yongguk left for Olympus in the morning, happily munching on breakfast.

Junhong shook his head again, “I was grateful he tried. Really.” He shrugged, “It just did not work. I think it has been too long. His hands did not even glow.”

Yongguk felt regret for leaving the half-god alone immediately. Even though Himchan was now undoubtedly being consoled by Jongup, he would obviously feel disappointed with himself – not because he couldn’t heal Junhong, but because he couldn’t do what his father did.

Yongguk knew Hyunwoo was powerful, but he had thought Himchan had overcome his father’s skill decades ago, especially since Hyunwoo’s powers were now dormant. Hyunwoo had only ever resurrected the dead when Yongguk was away from the Underworld, so he had no idea exactly how his powers worked, either.

“He tried to heal your wound?” He asked Junhong, and the nymph nodded, pulling up the edge of his silk shirt to show the gaping wound. If Yongguk was human, and not as used to dead bodies as he was, he would have recoiled – but instead, he peered closer.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Junhong muttered, his shirt covering his wound again. He was still insecure about it, not liking how the red of his open flesh contrasted with his pale skin.

Yongguk nodded, and said nothing. He would do everything he could, to try and bring Junhong to his forest again, but he did not want to say a word to Junhong, not wanting to get his hopes up.

For now, Yongguk did not want the nymph to be alone again, not for a while. He didn’t think it would be safe for him, especially when he was so frail.

“Lay with me tonight,” he proposed, watching Junhong smile shyly. He kissed the other’s cheek, finding him adorable, but said teasingly, “I mean that innocently, you nymph.”

“It sounded very promiscuous!” the nymph protested, and it was almost as if he had never cried at all. He shifted in Yongguk’s hold. “Innocently or not, I would love to sleep in your bed for tonight.”

“The proposal could be extended for all nights,” Yongguk murmured slyly in his ear, and Junhong blushed.

“That would be improper,” he said, but did not deny him.

The god smirked, “Himchan and Jongup lay with each other every night, even sometime at noon. Are they improper as well? ”

“They have courted for centuries,” Junhong rolled his eyes. “It is not the same.” Yongguk was amused at their conversation, until Junhong twisted to face him. He looked stern, but Yongguk thought he looked more adorable. “You cannot wait that long to propose, my lord. I would go insane waiting.”

Yongguk forced his smile.

“Of course,” he said, the promise wrapped in lies. Junhong beamed, satisfied, and settled back against him – but Yongguk could only feel dread, even if the nymph was in his arms.

No matter what, as long as Junhong was in the Underworld, the nymph would never be happy.

Yongguk did not want to let him go, but he knew he was never going to be as important to Junhong as the forest. He had already accepted that he was not enough to keep the nymph happy. Here, he was only keeping him trapped.

 

That night, at dinnertime, Yongguk watched as Junhong poked around his food, no longer as impressed with it as he was the first night. Himchan looked as down as the nymph, but when Daehyun and Youngjae returned from the Surface from their first day of looking after the forest, the half-god perked up and started asking them questions.

Junhong only seemed to be more depressed.

“How was your day?” Youngjae asked the nymph, noticing his silence. “Did you do a lot of reading?”

Junhong shook his head, looking at his food. “Lord Yongguk and I spent some time together, though.”

Yongguk smiled when his name was mentioned, but when Junhong didn’t light up, his heart dropped. The god suddenly knew the answer to the question that had plagued his mind all night; the nymph would much prefer life on Asphodel, with his _nymphai_ and a forest, than life in the Underworld.

Yongguk felt his hands tremble in the air as he lifted his cup to take a drink, his mouth dry. He had already made the decision – an he knew he would only regret it if he stalled it any further. Jongup looked at him in concern from the other end of the table, but Yongguk was not looking at him.

He was looking at the beautiful nymph beside him, whose eyes were downcast with sadness as Youngjae and Daehyun talked more and more of the forest’s wonders.

Junhong no longer wanted to be here, and Yongguk would always grant him his every wish.

 

That night, when they laid in bed together, Junhong was clearly not in the mood to do much other than sleep. Yongguk held him close to his body, knowing it would be the last time he could hold him this tightly – the last time he could hold him at all.

Junhong snuffled against his collarbone sleepily, curled up into a ball. Like this, he could sleep in Yongguk’s chest without his feet hanging off the bed.

“I love you so much, my nymph,” Yongguk murmured quietly, squeezing his eyes shut so tears would not escape. His fingers carded through the nymph’s hair, knowing it would be the last time. “I will always love you.”

“As will I,” Junhong replied, smiling sleepily.

In Yongguk’s arms, he felt safe and happy.

“Goodnight, my lord,” he said, mid-yawn, before closing his eyes and preparing to sleep.

If he was more alert, he would have noticed Yongguk’s body shudder at his words. The god exhaled, waiting for the air to settle between them before whispering back,

“Goodnight, my love.”

 

That night, when everyone in the castle was sleeping, Yongguk lifted his lover’s body from his bed and carried him out to the river, sending him across the river –

To Asphodel.


	11. Summer 2/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongup swallowed timidly, his hand curling around Himchan’s wrist. “Yongnam told me that he wishes to speak with you.”

Yongguk cried until the late morning, bringing his pillows to his chest and mourning his lover. He could not believe what he had done – but he did not have one ounce of regret in his body. It was what Junhong would have wanted.

By now, Jongup would have noticed and told Himchan – but he dreaded Youngjae finding out. Youngjae had known Junhong for almost all of his life, and would undoubtedly take the news of his death – his _real_ death – badly.

He knew the news had broken through the castle when he heard a loud cry, and he buried his face into Junhong’s pillow.

His beloved nymph was gone. Yongguk would never see his bright smile ever again, or have the younger console him when he lost control of his emotions. He would never see the nymph grow another flower, or run through the meadows into his arms. He only hoped the nymph was having that much fun in Asphodel with his _nymphai,_ because he did not think he could ever feel that happy ever again.

Even as Yongguk heard angry footsteps thud down the hallway, he did not move as Youngjae burst through the door and surged towards him. The human had a crazed look in his eyes as he lunged forward to grab the god by his collar, pinning him to a wall. He had gained a sudden power from his anger, but it helped that Yongguk did not try to fight back.

Instead, the god hung limply from his hold.

“ _You had no right!_ ” Youngjae yelled, red in the face. There were tear stains on his cheeks already – and they rolled down even as he spoke. “He wanted to live and you _killed_ him!”

Yongguk heaved a shuddering breath, his eyes as swollen as the human’s. He casted his gaze down to the floor, even as Youngjae hit him over and over again, attacking him for killing his best friend. The human dropped Yongguk to the floor and closed his eyes, choking on his sobs.

“Y-You are no different to Sanghyun,” he gasped through large breaths. “How could you even call him your lover?” he shouted, shaking Yongguk’s collar. “You did not deserve him.”

“I know,” Yongguk whispered quietly. There was nothing else he could say.

“ _Did_ you even love him?” Youngjae demanded, landing hits on the god’s chest. “How could you make that choice for him?”

“He wanted it,” Yongguk said numbly. He was still thinking of his lover, hopefully now in the forests of Asphodel, reuniting with his brother and parents, and meeting other nymphs. He dropped his head, “I only wanted to keep him happy.”

“ _You_ made him happy,” Youngjae cried brokenly. He fell to his knees, the hard floor bruising his skin. “How could you not know that?”

Yongguk felt his throat constrict, and struggled for air. How could he comfort Youngjae, when he caused this? He could not defend himself from the human’s hits, when he was right. Yongguk _did_ kill Junhong, but it was only because he loved him.

He loved the nymph _so much_. Bur he knew that Junhong would never be happy with him, even if he tried. Yongguk wasn’t enough for him.

Life in Asphodel would be better than no life at all.

Unable to console the human in front of him, who had collapsed out of anguish, he fled the Underworld without a word.

Without Junhong, nothing mattered anymore.

 

Jongup was the first to Youngjae’s side, realising that Yongguk had left for the Surface again. He teleported to the human, leaving Himchan and Daehyun to run up, and knelt down next to him, offering him a shoulder to cry on. Youngjae flinched away, and Jongup backed off.

Himchan and Daehyun had run upstairs, only to witness Youngjae lash out at the messenger god, who took the hit without defending himself.

“You must have led him there, right?” the human accused, and Jongup did not reply. Daehyun ran and held Youngjae back from hitting the god again, forcing his arms against his sides. Youngjae thrashed, but Daehyun held him tight, even as Himchan joined them. He was expecting the half-god to threaten Youngjae, but the Atlantean was unexpectedly silent.

Jongup did not acknowledge the boy’s claims, allowing him to think what he did, even if it was not the truth.

“Yongguk acted alone, based on his own beliefs, Youngjae,” Himchan told the human, wiping his eyes. “We are as upset as you are, but... Yongguk _is_ the lord of death...” He flinched when Youngjae’s nostrils flared and he struggled against Daehyun’s hold.

“How _dare_ you suggest what he did was right!” the human spat, his entire body surging towards the half-god if not for Daehyun’s grip. “Yongguk did not even know Junhong for a year!” Youngjae shouted, voice raw. His fingers dug into Daehyun’s arms, “Junhong was not the only family he had left!” the human cried, sobs taking over his voice. He could no longer breathe, and Daehyun hugged him tightly.

“Youngjae, we can return to the Surface and live our lives in the forest,” he said quietly. “We do not have to come back here.”

“Of course we do,” Youngjae snapped, no longer looking at Himchan and Jongup. He regretted attacking Jongup but was still angry. “All humans die.”

“But then we’ll be in Elysium,” Daehyun said calmly, trying to soothe him. “Not _here_.”

“We are only entering Elysium if we continue to follow Yongguk’s orders.” Youngjae shook his head, glaring holes the floor, “I will no longer serve him. I do not care if I end up in Asphodel, or even Tartarus. I cannot forgive him for this.”

Daehyun swallowed and rubbed the man’s shoulders. He had not known Junhong for long, but he knew that Youngjae loved him like a brother. Youngjae’s family had always left him alone since he was born – his mother, his father, and his grandmother – and just when he thought Junhong would stay with him forever, he had died too.

“I am with you. No matter what,” he said softly.

Youngjae looked at him, with wide eyes, before burying his face in his shirt. “He’s gone, Daehyun,” Youngjae whimpered quietly, and the man shifted to press a kiss to his forehead, before letting him cry little desperate sobs. “My Junhong...”

Daehyun looked up at Himchan and Jongup, who nodded at him before disappearing, allowing him to comfort Youngjae alone. He rested his head on top of Youngjae’s, closing his eyes and giving him everything he needed.

 

It didn’t take long for them to move. Youngjae wanted to leave as soon as he could talk without sobbing. Daehyun steadied his body, supporting him as he told Jongup to bring them back up to the Surface.

Youngjae stood there, clinging onto Daehyun and avoiding eye contact with Himchan and Jongup, even as he spoke to them. He knew it was not their fault that Junhong died, but he could not help but feel betrayed at the same time.

“We will always welcome you back,” Himchan murmured, and the human nodded wordlessly, before Jongup took both of their hands and transferred them back to land. He would not be back until late night either, too busy doing Yongguk’s tasks for the day.

Himchan released a soft sigh, falling back on one of the stairs. It had been a while since he was the only one in the Underworld – usually Yongguk or Jongup would be there, but for the past few days, Junhong, Youngjae and Daehyun were too.

It would be lonely without Junhong, Himchan thought sadly. If he was already missing the nymph, he couldn’t imagine the pain that Youngjae and Yongguk were feeling. But he supposed he understood what Yongguk was thinking, when he sent his lover to the Underworld. Perhaps Junhong dying and returning to a forest would be better than living miserably.

When Junhong was alive, Himchan had thought they weren’t so different – they were both trapped in the Underworld. But Himchan’s heart did not yearn for land, like Junhong’s did, and he could go up to the Surface any time he wanted, as long as he was with Jongup.

The half-god sighed as he walked up the stairs, towards the bedroom he shared with the messenger god. He knew it was wrong, but guilt settled in his stomach. If he was skilled enough to heal Junhong, Yongguk would not have had to send him off, and Youngjae would not be so distraught.

He opened the door of the bedroom and walked in, sitting down on the bed stiffly. From his position, he could see outside, to the three islands. His heart clenched when his eyes fell on the middle island.

He wondered if Junhong was truly happy there.

He had no doubt that Yongguk was wondering the same thing, wherever he was.

Himchan would miss Junhong – but with his death came the disappearance of others as well. Not only did Youngjae and Daehyun leave out of pure resentment for Yongguk, Yongguk would be absent for days, or weeks, immersed in his depression. Even Himchan’s lover would disappear, taking care of all of Yongguk’s forgotten tasks.

Himchan didn’t blame Yongguk – but he knew the next few days, even _months_ , would be like this. The Atlantean sighed quietly, hoping that Jongup would not be too overworked in Yongguk’s grief, but he already knew what would happen.

Even though Jongup was responsible and diligent, it would not be possible for him alone to cover all of Yongguk’s tasks. The responsibilities of the God of Death were extensive, and even when both gods worked together, they could only _just_ complete their daily tasks. If this continued for long, the deaths would pile up, and Jongup would have to find someone else who could help him complete the tasks, or risk uncollected souls roaming the Surface, haunting their past enemies.

And if that happened, everything would end in a meeting in Olympus to evaluate whether Yongguk truly was the best fit for the Underworld.

And if he wasn’t...

All three of them would be forced to move.

And whilst Jongup and Yongguk could easily be accepted into Olympus, Himchan – as a mere half-god – would have to live on the Surface again, where Yongnam was. The Atlantean had no doubt that Jongup would live with him on the Surface without a second’s thought, but a life running away from Yongnam did not seem like much of a life at all.

Not only that, but losing their home would destroy Jongup. He had grown up in the Underworld for millennia, and having it ripped away from him in mere _days_ …

Jongup would be overcome with grief.

Himchan squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think about it. That many deaths would only happen when there was a war, or a famine. It would be years before he would have to worry about it again.

They would not lose their home.

 

The news came eight days later.

Himchan was lying in bed as he did nowadays, half-asleep with nothing else to do. He usually tried not to fall asleep until his lover was home, wanting to greet him and praise him for the work he did that day.

Yongguk had been missing for a week now, and had not returned to the Underworld even once – leaving Jongup absolutely swamped with work. Himchan knew Yongguk was suffering, but it was a selfish act, not leaving someone else to help Jongup. The messenger god had come home later and later with each day, but Himchan tried to greet him lovingly every time, even though Jongup could only kiss him once before passing out in exhaustion.

The Atlantean was woken by a body weighing down on the mattress beside him, and he turned around immediately. He felt the messenger god instantly hold onto his hips, and he looked up with a questioning look. Jongup looked solemn – _more_ than usual, somehow – and his eyes were downcast.

“What’s wrong?” Himchan asked in concern, pushing himself even closer so he could press a kiss over Jongup’s eyelids.

Jongup sighed softly, but it carried a heavy weight.

“The gods wish to evaluate us,” he murmured, holding Himchan tighter when the half-god froze. “This heat has killed more humans than we could have imagined, and their souls roam the Earth in hoards. I alone cannot stop them.”

“Why are there so many?” Himchan whispered, not wanting to believe it.

“They revolted against their punishment,” Jongup said quietly. “They cursed Yongguk. So Yongnam punished them.”

Himchan wasn’t sure if he could hear properly.

“ _Yongnam_?”

“Indeed...” Jongup sighed again. “He removed all moisture from the air, only increasing the heat. They are dying faster, but their deaths are cursing us.” Himchan’s eyebrows furrowed, not knowing how to feel about it. He did not think Yongnam would be so immature as to make Yongguk even _more_ hated by the public.

“He did not do it with malicious intent,” Jongup said, knowing what Himchan was thinking. “It is surprising, but... He told me that he was only punishing them for treason.”

Himchan looked unimpressed, “And you believed him?” he snapped.

Jongup swallowed timidly, his hand curling around Himchan’s wrist. “He told me that he wishes to speak with you.”

“No,” the Atlantean refused immediately, anger flaring. How could Jongup even think that he would agree? After everything Yongnam had done to his family, to Junhong, and to him? He hadn’t had freedom in centuries because of the god.

“That is okay too,” His lover assured him instantly, sensing his panic. He cupped his cheek and kissed him softly as an apology for the suggestion, but Himchan could not relax – not even if Jongup poured all of his love to him. Yongnam was _still_ pursuing him, after Himchan had made it crystal clear that he was uninterested.

But he knew Jongup would not have brought it up, if it was not important. Jongup detested Yongnam as much as he did.

“What does he want?” Himchan said finally – and he could not _believe_ he was even considering it. Jongup looked at him, before kissing his forehead.

“To apologise,” he answered. “I do not like it, but he said I could be present, to protect you. And... he is one of the gods who will evaluate us, so I do not wish to anger him before the meeting.”

Himchan took a sharp breath, trying not to show how hesitant he was.

“I-I suppose,” he mumbled, looking down. Jongup could probably hear how loud his heart was pounding, because of how scared he was. His lover gazed at him in silence, before entwining their fingers together.

“I’m proud of you,” he said simply, and Himchan squeezed his eyes shut. Jongup’s words were little comfort, but they were well-intended. “Tomorrow, then,” Jongup said, and Himchan hid a wince.

“Let’s sleep,” he said in reply, and Jongup agreed, wrapping his hands around him and tucking his head into the crook of his neck. A soft kiss was placed on Himchan’s skin before the messenger god fell into his sleep, but the half-god could not sleep with the same ease.

He laid there awake for hours, staring at the ceiling and wondering how much power an innocent nymph had held.

 

Above the Surface, Youngjae was wondering the same thing.

“We are fortunate you managed to corner the God of the Seas,” Daehyun told him, as they relaxed inside a rock pool. The water lapped at their bare stomachs, and Youngjae gazed upon Daehyun.  Initially, he was embarrassed to remove all but his undergarments in front of the elder boy, but Daehyun had done the same without a moment’s hesitation, allowing Youngjae to look over his beautifully tanned skin and slight muscles. If he moved suddenly, he could sometimes feel his leg brush against Daehyun’s.

He wondered for a moment how Junhong would react if he knew that Youngjae was half-naked with his ‘prince,’ his body barely hidden.

But he cast his thoughts away immediately.

He looked up at the other man.

“I do not believe he is very fond of me,” the human answered, smiling without any humour. “But I suppose that is the least of my worries.”

The smirk on Daehyun’s face was much more amused, as he recalled how Youngjae had pelted stones into the Seas, screaming for Lord Yongnam to emerge. He had not expected the god to actually appear, but as Youngjae’s screams only increased in volume, the god eventually showed up. And whilst Daehyun had expected the Sea God to be irrational, arrogant and insulting – he had even prepared himself to protect Youngjae from any of Yongnam’s potential attacks – Yongnam was surprisingly patient and understanding as he listened to Youngjae’s pleas for help.

“I think he likes you,” Daehyun offered. “He did what you told him too, and even gave us a pool,” he gestured to the water, and Youngjae blushed in embarrassment, crossing his legs. Daehyun softened, and he moved closer to the other man. Their arms touched from the lack of distance between them, but Youngjae did not shy away. Daehyun took that as a good sign.

“When this is all over… will we talk? About us?” he asked quietly, and Youngjae looked up to see his expression, oddly shy and hesitant. They had not yet discussed their new relationship, even though they had shared numerous kisses and lingering touches over the past week.

“When this is over…” Youngjae echoed. He could not yet imagine it, but he gave Daehyun a small nod, watching as his prince’s lips curved into a hopeful smile.

 

Himchan did not sleep.

He watched Jongup’s eyes fluttered open, and the god’s hand settled on the small of his back. “Why did you not sleep, my love?” he said, voice still husky with sleep. Himchan turned his head slightly, not wanting to answer, and Jongup pressed his lips to the other’s forehead.

“I will be there with you. You do not have to fear Yongnam if I am there,” he said softly.

Himchan murmured, “And you will not leave? Not even once?”

“Not even once,” Jongup confirmed. “Now come and get ready with me,” he smiled so warmly that Himchan could not help himself but follow his lover down to the springs, where they would bathe. The sooner they got ready, the sooner they met Yongnam. The sooner it would be over.

Himchan was, yet again, lost in his thoughts as he watched Jongup step out of his clothes with ease. He did not make a move to strip, and when Jongup turned to face him, he was grateful that he smiled affectionately – understandingly – instead of becoming impatient.

The god laughed when Himchan clung onto him, not allowing him to remove his shirt yet. The half-god wrapped his arms around the other and buried his face into his shoulder.

“We can take as long as you want,” Jongup said softly. “I will not force you to meet Yongnam, if you truly do not wish to.”

“I want to. For you,” Himchan mumbled, and Jongup nodded.

A kiss was placed to the tip of Himchan’s forehead. “He said he will be here before noon.”

The half-god said nothing in reply, but finally relaxed so Jongup could pull his shirt over his head and remove his pants. They both entered the hot springs, releasing exhausted sighs as they did so.

The smoke covered half of their figures, but Himchan reached out to touch Jongup’s skin, and rest his head on the god’s shoulder. He took a breath, slow and deep, and closed his eyes, as Jongup’s arms circled his body and held him tight.

But he still could not sleep.

Usually, when Himchan and Jongup were alone in the Underworld, they had plenty of fun in the hot springs. Regularly. Multiple times, even. But today was not one of those days. Today, Himchan was not even sure he could leave the hot springs when Yongnam arrived.

He was not aware of how many minutes, or even hours had passed, when Jongup suddenly tensed under him. The half-god sat up straight and faced him, only to jolt back when he saw the messenger god’s eyes, blood red.

“Jongup,” he said urgently, shaking the man’s shoulders. Jongup was snarling, his head snapped in the direction of the castle’s entrance. Himchan gripped his wrist tightly, leading him out of the hot springs and finding their clothes from earlier. His hands were trembling as he gave the god his clothes, before dressing himself. Jongup was not in the right state to meet Yongnam, too filled with uncontrollable anger. Himchan did not have the time to worry about why, not when Yongnam was waiting for their presence.

“Calm down,” he said to Jongup, but it felt like he was speaking to himself. “We cannot appear in front of Yongnam like this.”

“You are no longer meeting him,” Jongup said sharply, looking at his lover.

Himchan’s anger flared, “I have been preparing for this all night.”

“He brought Hyunwoo with him,” the god said, and Himchan’s stomach dropped. He clenched his jaw, before shaking his head.

“I have prepared for this all night,” he repeated firmly, staring at his lover. He was not _supposed_ to be afraid of his father, and he would not be intimidated away now.

If anything, he was curious what Yongnam was thinking when he brought Hyunwoo with him to the Underworld.

“You will protect me no matter what, correct?” he asked Jongup, and the messenger god nodded without any hesitation. Himchan smiled slightly at his lover’s devotion and kissed his lips quickly. “Then we do not have to worry.”

“I do not like this,” Jongup whispered, frown deepening, and Himchan shrugged lightly, before striding outside of the bathroom, where he could see the two gods immediately.

Yongnam’s expression lifted immediately, as it usually did whenever they saw each other, but Himchan ignored him. He was much more focused on his father, who was smirking with his arms crossed, much shorter than the Sea God beside him. Himchan had seen him recently, at Junhong’s dinner party, but he could not help the shiver of fear that passed through him every time his eyes landed on his father. Even if Hyunwoo hated him, they looked identical. The only difference between them was their hair – whereas Himchan’s hair was kept short, Hyunwoo’s dark, long locks were swept up into a neat ponytail.

Himchan stopped ten feet in front of them, not wanting to come any closer.

“My least favourite son,” Hyunwoo said coldly, quirking his eyebrow at Himchan. “Or, my _only_ son.” His knee buckled when Yongnam delivered a swift kick to his leg, and he stumbled forward.

“Would you like to go to Tartarus for a second time?” the Sea God snapped, always defensive of the Himchan.

Himchan held in a frustrated sigh, wondering when Yongnam would give up on him. It had been centuries already.

“What do you want?” Himchan demanded, not caring for the two gods’ banter. “If you wish to argue, you may do so on the Surface.”

Yongnam’s attention shifted from Hyunwoo, back to Himchan, and Jongup stiffened from behind the half-god, always uncomfortable with Yongnam’s never-ending infatuation with his lover. Himchan ignored it, not caring about it, even when Yongnam’s gaze darkened. “I am here because I was approached by two humans on the Surface, who told me that you were not happy here.”

“I am happy here,” Himchan replied instantly, wondering how Youngjae and Daehyun had managed to contact the God of the Seas in a mere few days.

“You are not,” Yongnam said calmly, crossing his arms. “But it is because of Yongguk, not because of…” he looked at Jongup with disgust, as usual, “this _mute_.”

Jongup held back from attacking the god, which Himchan was grateful for.

“Yongguk has been neglecting his duties, because he is heartbroken,” Himchan said defensively. “We both understand his emotions and are trying to support him during this time. If you are here to criticise him, I do not wish to hear it.” Inwardly, he realised this was the longest he had even bothered to talk to Yongnam in hundreds of years, but it wasn’t so bad. Especially since his father was not adding to the conversation – mostly out of fear of the Sea God.

“I am not here to criticise. Stop drawing your own conclusions, my love,” Yongnam drawled. Jongup took one threatening step closer to him, before Himchan gripped his hand and held him back. Yongnam’s eyes flickered to their joined hands, before looking back up at Himchan. “I am here to solve your problems for you.”

“Solve them?” the half-god scoffed. “Sure.”

“Why else would I have brought your father?” Yongnam replied, in the same tone. He huffed, “I do not wish to inflict upon you any more pain, Himchan. Simply put, I have instructed your father to teach you how to heal Yongguk’s lover from death. He either does as I say, or is sent to Tartarus for eternity.”

Hyunwoo scowled but did not say anymore.

“Train me,” Himchan demanded immediately, striding closer to his father. He could not believe this was happening – he did not think it was possible. He had already tried healing Junhong from death, and it had not worked. “I am not powerful enough yet, but I will learn anything I need to, in order to save Junhong.”

Yongnam shoved Hyunwoo, and the man stumbled forward unwillingly. He steered clear of Himchan, clearly wanting nothing to do with him.

“You are strong enough already,” he growled lowly. “Of course you are, you are related to _me_.”

“I already tried healing him when he was here,” Himchan snapped, growing impatient. He did not know if there was a time limit on healing people from death. “It did not work, not even a little. I could not even feel the magic through my hands.”

“Because he was in this castle,” Hyunwoo replied, temper growing as quickly as Himchan’s impatience. He did not bother looking at his son, as if he wasn’t worth his time, and began pacing the room. “Yongguk has told this to you many times. You either arrive in the Underworld dead or alive, and you cannot die, even if you tried to kill yourself.”

Himchan swallowed, not knowing what to say. Yongguk had indeed told him that thousands of times, especially in the earlier years, when he had contemplated dying with his family, instead of continuing to live.

“But Yongguk is wrong,” Hyunwoo said sharply, looking up to see Himchan. He had never talked for his son for this long without insulting or assaulting him. “He does not know that you _can_ die in the Underworld. Just not in this castle. The castle rejects any phase from life to death, or death to life. That is why you could not revive Yongguk’s courtesan, even if you tried.”

“Do _not_ call him that,” Jongup growled. “Junhong is _royalty_ here.” Himchan would have said the same, if Hyunwoo’s words were not reeling through his head.

“How could you know that?” he asked Hyunwoo. “How could _you_ know that, when the Lord of Death himself, does not?”

“Because the fool has never thought of it.” His father replied, and he stopped his pacing. He shrugged nonchalantly, “Of course, it is a simple conclusion. If I were to send you to Asphodel, you would be accepted instantly, even if you were alive. So, you would have died, despite being in the Underworld.”

Himchan quietened, thinking to himself quietly. Hyunwoo would not spell out the answer for him – at least, without insulting his intelligence loudly. But three pairs of eyes now tracked his movement, waiting for him to come to a conclusion.

“So the islands are the only places where I can revive Junhong,” he said finally, after a minute’s silence. “They are the only places in the Underworld that allow a shift from life to death, and death to life.”

“Finally, you idiot,” Hyunwoo muttered, and Himchan winced. Jongup’s eyes flashed red, but it was Yongnam who delivered a sharp knock to the elder man’s head. Hyunwoo’s chest rumbled in rage, but he visibly swallowed his anger. He took a deep breath, clenching his fists by his sides.

“N-No,” Himchan whispered. “But I was so _close_.”

“You may still heal him,” Hyunwoo offered, without a moment’s hesitation. “After all, you may still go to Asphodel.”

Himchan’s eyes widened, and he looked enlightened. “Then let’s go,” he said to Jongup, already beginning to walk towards the castle door. He was jolted back by a tight grip on his wrist, and Jongup glared at Hyunwoo, before looking at Yongnam.

Jongup did not trust the Sea God completely – he never would – but he could at least trust him with protecting Himchan from his father.

“We cannot go with him, because we are gods,” he said quietly to Yongnam. “Do you think it is wise for him to go alone?”

“Do you not trust your lover?” Hyunwoo sneered, and his confidence was answer enough. There was no way he would willingly offer his son an option with no consequences for him.

Yongnam tackled the older man, holding him by the collar against the floor. “What do you have planned?” he snarled, but Jongup had already realised.

“Sending Himchan to Asphodel alone would kill him, would it not?” Jongup said, louder than Himchan had ever heard him in front of other people, and Yongnam slammed Hyunwoo’s head against the floor of the castle.

Hyunwoo managed to stay silent throughout it all, as Himchan froze in his place.

“He would not do that to me, would he?” he whispered, eyes flickering to Jongup’s. He knew his father hated him, but to want him dead… He swallowed, hoping it was not the case. “No, my father has revived people before. Not just from Tartarus, but from Asphodel as well. He would not send me there to kill me.”

“Your father is a god, Himchan,” Yongnam spoke, and his eyes had softened as they gazed at the half-god. “He is immortal, and would not die, even if he entered Asphodel. You would.”

The half-god’s eyes were filling up with tears as the realisation dawned on him, “No… This isn’t the only way to save Junhong. There has to be another way,” he trembled, and Hyunwoo smirked from his position on the floor.

“Unfortunately not, my _son_ ,” he said mockingly, and Yongnam punched him across the face, just wanting him to shut up. He was obviously in a rage, veins throbbing on his neck, as if he was distressed for bringing Himchan a flawed solution to all his problems.

“I should have realised he was going to pull a trick,” the God of the Seas said, in disbelief of the trust he had placed in Hyunwoo. “He was too willing to help you when I asked.”

Himchan’s breathing had quickened, and Jongup raced over to where he was standing, next to the door.

“It’s okay, my love, we have tried,” he soothed the half-god, but Himchan could not hear him, too focused on the body on the floor.

Hyunwoo may have been trying to trick him, but he was right.

Himchan began whispering to himself, suddenly gripping onto Jongup’s hands with equal fervour. Even with the gods’ superior hearing, they could not understand a word he was saying, until he suddenly jolted forward into Jongup’s arms, kissing him like his life depended on it.

Jongup pulled away when he felt the wetness of his lover’s tears and instantly started worrying.

“Himchan,” he said desperately, “What’s wrong?”

“My love… this is a choice I must make. For you,” the half-god said quietly, holding onto his lover’s hands.

“What are you talking about?” Jongup asked helplessly, lost, but Himchan was already shaking his head.

“You and Yongguk will both be ostracised by the gods if this continues any longer,” the Atlantean said, hiccupping. Jongup’s grip on his hands tightened again in worry, so much so that Himchan would have claimed it hurt, if he could even focus on the pain. “You have been so busy lately,” he told Jongup, his voice breaking as he watched as the god’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. Himchan held his hands as tightly, not wanting to let go. “You have not slept, you have not eaten. Because you are too busy doing Yongguk’s job.”

Jongup glanced at Yongnam, to gauge if he knew what was happening, but the Sea God looked just as confused.

Hyunwoo looked as if he couldn’t care.

“I cannot let you both lose your home,” Himchan trembled, the tears flowing down his cheeks. “I will bring Junhong back to Yongguk.”

“No!” the shout ripped from Jongup’s chest, and he held Himchan close to him. “Are you crazy?” he demanded, his voice thundering through the castle. “You have no responsibility over Yongguk’s heartbreak!”

Himchan smiled sadly, and pressed his wet cheek against Jongup’s. “But I have a responsibility to protect you, my love. I cannot allow you to lose your home.”

“I do not _care_ about the Underworld,” Jongup promised him, scrambling to hold Himchan close even as the half-god was pulling away. “No no no no no,” he chanted, holding his lover close to his chest. “ _Himchan_ ,” he voice cracked, and he buried his face into the half-god’s neck. “ _Please_.”

“The people of the Surface deserve to have gods who are as selfless and kind as you and Yongguk,” Himchan spoke softly. “And that will only happen if I bring Junhong back.”

“No,” Jongup shook his head. “Y-You cannot leave now. _Stay_ ,” he begged, stumbling over his words. “Not when we were… I was going to ask you to marry me,” he cried.

Himchan choked on his cry, and Jongup shook his head. “Please. Don’t leave, my love. We can… We can find another way. Another healer.” He was babbling in his panic, saying anything that would convince his lover to stay with him.

“There is no other healer,” Himchan whispered, kissing his nose softly. He glanced at Yongnam, from where the god had risen from the floor. The god neared the couple uncertainly, as if unsure he was allowed to approach them.

“If you truly loved me, Yongnam, you would let me go,” Himchan told the god shakily, even as Jongup’s hold tightened around him. “You would _help me_.”

The Sea God swallowed, but nodded stiffly.

Jongup was wailing now, pressing Himchan to his chest and refusing to let go. He could not stop, even if he tried – he could not survive a life without Himchan. His lover. His _soulmate_.

With all the strength in his body, Himchan ripped the messenger god’s hands away, and Yongnam surged forward to hold the thrashing body back.

Without another word, or a glance back, Himchan exited the castle, walking away from his lover.

“ _Himchan_!” Jongup cried, and the castle shook with the messenger god’s power. It was only through sheer luck that Yongnam was holding him back. Himchan knew that he would not have the strength to hold him back for long.

The half-god hurried towards the boat at the edge of Yongguk’s island, stepping inside and using the oar to steer it in the direction of the middle island. Eventually, the waves would bring him towards Asphodel without any need for assistance, but Himchan _needed_ something to do with his hands, even if the oar clattered in his trembling hold.

He heard an explosion but forced himself to look straight ahead. He could not look back, or he would instantly return to Jongup’s arms.

But when silence had fallen, and he had reached the middle of the river, he could not help but look back at the castle he had called home for centuries.

He choked when he saw it.

The castle had collapsed from Jongup’s sheer power – from the clash between two gods fighting – leaving nothing but black stone, and dust. Himchan swallowed, blinking back tears when he saw his lover, sinking on his knees by the edge of the river.

His heart broke when he heard Jongup’s final cry.

But he carried on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only finished writing this an hour ago and it hasn't been beta-ed yet, but I promised to update today on my twitter!


	12. Summer 3/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His nymph was in his arms.
> 
> Alive.

Yongguk gently traced the petals of the white flowers before summoning a cloud over the patch and letting rain fall over the flowers. It had only been a few days since he had asked Haseul to teach him how to look after the plants, just as Junhong and Youngjae had learnt before, and she had agreed immediately, her eyes watery with tears as she stared at him with sympathy.

It had taken everything in him not to break down again when she looked at him like that.

Yongguk was determined to look after the small patch of flowers. If he could not save Junhong, he could at least look after what his nymph had loved the most during his life. Even _thinking_ about Junhong still made his eyes sting with unshed tears. He did not think the pain would ever go away, but realistically he knew he could swallow his heartbreak.

It would take decades, maybe centuries, but he would manage. It would take time.

_Time._

Their love did not span even a _year_. Yongguk could not believe that it had only been that long – three brief seasons had felt like an eternity to him, when he had fallen so hard, so _instantly_ , for the nymph. When he was with his lover, time did not even exist.

But now that he was alone, every second felt like a decade. He could not see anything like he used to, without his bright nymph by his side. He only felt numb.

The cloud disappeared as Yongguk curled up in a ball, remembering how excited Junhong had been when Haseul first told him that he could grow flowers without magic. He had been so energetic, so thrilled that Youngjae could learn a new skill alongside him. Junhong would always be remembered by Yongguk as that selfless, loving nymph.

The god’s nails curled into his palms, drawing crescent-shaped marks of blood, but he could not feel it.

He heard footsteps near him but did not react.

“You’re pathetic,” a familiar deep voice growled from above him. Still, the god did not bother looking up.

“Leave, Yongnam,” he spat, eyes dark with sorrow. When he spoke, his voice sounded strange, like he was listening to someone else speak. He had not heard his own voice in days – he hadn’t needed to.

Instead of following his words, his brother sat down in front of him, his usual smirk nowhere to be seen. Yongguk visibly tensed when he realised his brother’s seriousness, but he snarled threateningly, “If you are here to gloat, I will not hear it.”

Yongnam put up his hands in a mock-surrender.

“You need not speak for me, brother,” he said, crossing his legs elegantly. Yongnam sighed, gazing over the patches of flowers that Youngjae and Junhong had planted. “He died here, did he not?”

Yongguk’s anger flared, and he glared at his brother, not bothering to reply. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, and Yongnam lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug.

“Waiting.”

Yongguk stared at him distrustfully but did not ask for more. He would not waste words on his brother, regardless of how strange he was acting. To his annoyance, Yongnam simply sat back and relaxed, his eyes trained on his brother. He did not move, even as Yongguk’s eyes stared at him for minutes on end.

Yongguk clenched his jaw, upset that he had been disturbed, but too stubborn to request Yongnam to leave again.

He had been sitting next to Junhong’s white flowers for days, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten up to walk around. A few metres away were the flowers that had grown from Junhong’s blood, but they had not needed the same care that the white flowers needed. Even as the burning sun beat down on their fragile petals, they had not wilted.

Yongguk had watered them too, but even looking at them reminded him of memories he had tried to cast away.

He should have treasured Junhong more, protected him from everything and anyone. It was his fault that Junhong was trapped in the Underworld the first time, since he had not warned him of Yongnam. It was his fault that Junhong was killed by Sanghyun, because he was too late to save him. It was his fault that Junhong felt pressured to live an eternity dead in the Underworld. Everything was _his fault._

If Yongguk had not interfered with Junhong’s life at all, if he had not seen him that day when he was caught in the human trap, he would not have fallen so hopelessly in love with the nymph – Junhong would have been happy.

The red flowers were only a bitter reminder of the future Yongguk had stolen from his lover.

Absorbed in his own thoughts, Yongguk did not notice Yongnam’s back straightening until he sensed something else.

“What did you do?” he asked Yongnam, his heartbeat quickening. He had not felt this sensation in millennia – the sensation of death receding. On the Surface, death always followed him, especially around plants and animals – but now, he could barely feel its presence at all.

He climbed to his feet, holding onto a nearby tree for support.

Yongnam did not say anything, even as Yongguk stumbled a few metres away, to the patch of blood-red flowers. Yongguk’s heart stopped when he realised they were fading, along with the aura of death that always surrounded them.

His hands desperately grasped at their stalks, but his fingers slipped through their image, as if they were only his imagination. Before Yongguk could cry out, they disappeared between his fingers, like they had never existed. His breath rushed from his body, and he stilled as he stared at his empty, shaking hands, holding nothing but air.

The flowers were Junhong’s last creation.

A strangled moan tore from his throat, and he collapsed on his knees. He could not even protect Junhong’s _flowers_.

The god was too distraught to register the distant feeling of death fully pulling away from his surroundings, until all he could sense was life bursting forward, ripping through the path between the Underworld and the Surface. A beam of light blinded his sight, and words died on his tongue.

All he could feel was _Junhong_. All around him was the feeling of his lost lover, crossing the boundary between death and life, struggling to be set free.

He could not see anything, but his hands reached forward nonetheless, until he felt the soft fabric of Junhong’s tunic. A body surged forward against his and two hands cupped his cheeks, before he felt a kiss press on his lips.

“Junhong,” he whispered in disbelief. “My love.”

“ _Yongguk_ ,” a broken voice replied, and Yongguk’s arms immediately circled the nymph’s. The light disappeared, but all Yongguk could care about was Junhong, Junhong, _Junhong._

His nymph was in his arms.

_Alive._

“You are here,” he said shakily. He held Junhong tightly against his chest, the nymph’s form skinnier than he remembered. The god inhaled, taking in his sweet and floral scent. He could not believe he was not hallucinating. “My precious nymph,” he breathed, not believing his senses. “It’s really you.”

“You bastard,” Junhong sobbed into his neck. The pain in his voice struck Yongguk like a whip. “You let me go.”

Yongguk’s chest constricted and his arms tightened, “I made a mistake, my love. I knew it was a mistake as soon as I did it. I could not live without you.”

“Then why?” Junhong’s voice broke. “I loved you, my lord. You said... you said we were meant to be together. You _promised._ ”

“We are,” Yongguk said fiercely, his fingers holding onto Junhong’s arm protectively. “We _still are_. Give me a second chance, Junhong. I will prove it. Nothing like this will ever happen again.”

It seemed the nymph had already forgiven him, since he wasn’t releasing the god from his hold. He embraced him tightly, so emotional that he had no control over his powers. Hundreds of bright, colourful flowers spread from the grass where they were sitting, reaching out to metres away, where Yongnam was – but neither Yongguk nor Junhong looked up from where they were staring at each other.

“I love you so much, my lord,” the nymph cried, pressing himself into every space between them, until there was not an inch between them. Yongguk could feel the warmth of Junhong’s skin, his chest lifting and rising with every breath.

He was a _god_ , but he wished there was somebody he could pray to – somebody he could thank for this gift.

“You are alive!” he whispered, still not over his shock. “I... cannot believe it.” Yongguk had truly exhausted all of his connections trying to find a way to heal Junhong from death – but even Himchan, the best healer in the universe, could not.

Junhong gasped softly, as he finally pulled back to see the flowers swirling around them. At the same time, a gust of wind flew by them courtesy of Yongguk, ruffling their hair and cooling them from the extreme heat.

The nymph looked incredulous, staring at his hands as a flower crown appeared – the same one with pink and white flowers that he had gifted Yongguk so many moons ago. Junhong stared at his hands for a moment, feeling the rush of nature around him, welcoming him back home.

Yongguk lowered his head as Junhong laid the flower crown in his hair. “You must not blame yourself anymore,” he whispered softly, and Yongguk’s heart clenched. Junhong would not trust him as easily as he did before – but he deserved it. He would work tirelessly to make sure that he could protect Junhong and gain his trust back.

“Make one for yourself, nymphling,” he murmured, unable to help himself from leaning forward and connecting their lips once again. He had missed everything about Junhong, but the taste of his kiss was something he had missed the most.

When he pulled back, a flower crown was resting on Junhong’s head. He lifted his hand to admire it, before cupping the nymph’s face.

“You are a miracle,” he told him earnestly, watching as the nymph’s eyes, wide and innocent, met his. Junhong’s face was flushed pink from when he had cried earlier, but he smiled at Yongguk’s words, eyes softening.

“A miracle made from sacrifice,” Yongnam scoffed from behind him, finally speaking. Yongguk had forgotten his brother was even present, too absorbed with his beloved nymph. The lord of the Underworld turned slightly to face Yongnam but did not move. Junhong was still perched on his lap, and both of them were unwilling to part.

Yongguk gave his brother a questioning look – although it quickly dawned on him that Yongnam had played a part in returning his lover. He had mysteriously appeared moments before Junhong was resurrected, after all.

“You must thank your healer,” the Sea God said coldly, crossing his arms.

“Himchan did this?” Yongguk’s eyes widened, and Junhong nodded into his neck, snuffling slightly. The god hugged him tighter, and Junhong mumbled into his skin.

“He sacrificed himself,” Yongnam said, but he could not keep the tremor out of his voice. He could not even meet his brother in the eye. “He sacrificed himself to save your nymph. To save you, Yongguk, and the thousands of humans who were haunted.”

Yongguk stared at him in confusion. His arms were still wrapped tight around his nymph, who was suddenly quiet.

Yongnam said finally, “Himchan is dead.”

Junhong’s head lifted from Yongguk’s skin, tear tracks down his face. Yongguk had frozen beneath him.

“He healed Junhong from Asphodel,” the Lord of the Underworld said, watching as Yongnam nodded solemnly. “No... He could not have. Jongup...”

“Is in mourning.”

Yongguk looked horrified, clutching onto Junhong tighter. The nymph swallowed, looking confused.

“That cannot be,” Junhong finally spoke, his voice scratchy. Yongguk lifted a gentle hand to the nymph’s shoulder, worried that he would feel guilty.

“Junhong...”

“ _No,_ ” Junhong’s voice rose, staring directly at Yongnam. “It is _impossible_.”

Yongnam snarled, sick of the nymph’s denial, “You would have seen him enter Asphodel, nymph! He healed you!”

Yongguk tensed at his raised voice, but he did not stop the fight. Yongnam had been overly-obsessed with Himchan for centuries, but he had been infatuated with him. Even if it was unhealthy, it would be unfair of Yongguk to criticise his brother for lashing out.

“He did not enter.” Junhong stated firmly, gaze levelled with the God of the Seas. Yongnam opened his mouth to argue, but Junhong cut him off, “I had been weeping on Asphodel’s docks for days. I had not left to find my _nymphai_ nor play in the meadow, because I had waited for Yongguk to come back and fetch me.”

Yongguk flinched. He could not have entered Asphodel, nor forced Junhong back on the boat, even if he had tried.

“That is not the issue,” Junhong dismissed his lover when he tried to tell him so. He turned to Yongnam instead. “So if he reached out across the docks to heal me, but did not leave the boat, would he have been accepted by Asphodel?”

Yongnam’s mouth was open, and he looked at Yongguk for an answer.

“The Underworld loves technicalities,” the Lord murmured, looking worried. He looked at Junhong, whose eyes were wide with hope. “If he did not enter Asphodel, I believe he should still be alive.”

“I saw him return,” Junhong said, nodding in agreement. “He turned back and told me he would see me again.” Yongguk brushed his lips against the nymph’s cheek, grateful that he had managed to calm Yongnam down.

Barely a second passed before Yongnam had straightened and stared down at the two lovers.

“Bring me back,” Yongnam said instantly. “Take me to the Underworld to see him.”

Yongguk glanced at Junhong, unsure if the nymph would want to return to Hell, but his lover only nodded in agreement. Like always, Junhong was selfless and loving, caring about others before himself.

The god removed both of their crowns, not wanting them to disintegrate, and in an instant, they were in the Underworld.

When Yongguk oriented himself, he was met with a shock.

“What...” Junhong immediately breathed, seeing the destroyed rubble around them. The castle had completely collapsed, the black stone crumbled and shattered. Some had even fallen into the water. Yongguk’s castle was unrecognisable – it was no longer the tall, proud palace it had once been.

 His heart rate picked up and Yongguk squeezed his hand, knowing he was frightened. The castle was the least of his worries right now – his gaze immediately narrowed onto the kneeling messenger god by the docks, who was heaving dry sobs.

He released Junhong’s hand.

“Jongup,” Yongguk called, striding over to where the crying god was kneeling. The messenger god did not look up, his fists clenched into tighter fists where they were beside him.

Yongguk swallowed. It pained him to see his best friend like this, when he was usually so stoic and proud. He had never seen him in so much pain.

“He isn’t dead.”

Jongup did not move.

His shoulders did not relax, nor did he look up. He was still, and silent, if not for his uneven breaths.

“Junhong told me that he saw Himchan return on the boat,” the god continued. “He did not enter the island but healed him from the boat. He should be alive.”

Jongup shook his head, still not looking up.

Behind them, Yongnam’s arm knocked into Junhong’s, and he raised a shaking hand. The nymph followed the man’s pointed finger to the river, where the only thing they could see was an empty boat, floating back to land.

Junhong gasped quietly, stumbling back in shock. Yongguk was frozen still, unable to react.

“But I saw him... he said he would come back,” the nymph whispered, and Yongnam set a hand on his shoulder, silently telling him to be silent.

In front of them, Jongup released a pained wail, curling into himself.

His lover was gone.

 

Junhong could not remain on his feet, to watch the boat return. He sunk to the floor, unable to stop choked sobs from escaping him. Yongnam had gone deathly silent, and Yongguk was frozen still.

Yet, despite their sorrow, all four watched as the boat rocked back to the docks, until it hit the wood with a loud noise, shaking the ground that they stood on.

Junhong watched in confusion as Yongguk immediately stiffened, and Jongup shot up as well. He had no time to question what was going on when the messenger god rushed down to the boat, but he knew that both Yongguk and Jongup had a sense for everything that happened on the Underworld’s main island.

Seconds later, Jongup emerged, picking up a body from the boat. In his arms lay Himchan, limp and unmoving.

The nymph gasped – he had immediately assumed from the empty boat that Himchan had disappeared, but he had not thought that the half-god was lying on the bottom. To his relief, the Atlantean was still breathing, although he was unconscious.

Jongup held his lover tightly, but he cleared a spot on the ground before he laid his lover down. Himchan’s head rolled to the side, and the messenger god parted his hair away from his eyes.

“Will he heal?” Yongnam asked worriedly, hovering behind them. He knew better than to come too close, especially when Jongup was emotional.

Yongguk bit his lip and nodded. “He is exhausted, but healthy. He will heal easily.” He walked over to Junhong’s side, as the nymph wrapped his arms around his middle. They both breathed a sigh of relief.

Jongup did not know what to do, other than place his hands on Himchan’s chest, feeling him breathe slowly. He took comfort in the fact that his lover would be safe, but he could not stand by and do _nothing_.

He looked at Yongguk whilst silently pushing the boundary between the Underworld and the Surface. The Surface was Himchan’s home, and Jongup frankly felt uncomfortable keeping him in the Underworld, around sharp rocks and broken brick.

At Yongguk’s single nod, they all returned to the Surface, back to the Junhong’s meadow. Jongup had not spared much thought to their location, but knew that this place, hidden by thick forests, would be the safest.

The messenger god ensured that Himchan was comfortable and pillowed his head on his lap.

Junhong twitched, as if unable to stop himself from trying to help out – at once, he created leaves and folded them until they formed a cup, trotting over to Yongnam to fill it up with water.

The water god did so without any hesitation, and Junhong’s eyes softened as he saw the water flowing from his hands. He was reminded of his mother’s powers as a water nymph, and how she used to splash cold water on him whenever he acted up as a child.

Once the cup was filled, the nymph gave the cup to Jongup, before creating a fruit and giving that to him as well.

“Its sweetness will give him energy, when he wakes,” Junhong said, his eyes showing his sympathy. Jongup took his gifts gratefully, and Junhong returned to Yongguk’s side.

Together they waited, until they saw the first signs of Himchan waking up. It may have taken a few minutes or an hour – but time stood still for all of them. Slowly, the half-god’s eyelids fluttered open, and a weak groan escaped his lips. All of them stiffened in an instant when he tried to speak but could only cough.

Jongup supported him, cupping his cheek and bringing the cup of water up to his lips. The Atlantean drank greedily, finishing the water in seconds, but Junhong readily provided another cup, which Yongnam gladly filled, before giving it to Himchan.

Jongup set on peeling the fruit – it seemed to have inedible skin – whilst Junhong kneeled down next to the half-god.

“I cannot thank you enough,” he whispered gratefully, as Himchan’s grip on his hand tightened. The half-god smiled weakly at him but did not have the energy to speak yet. Slowly, Yongguk moved forward as well, resting a hand on the Atlantean’s shoulder in thanks.

Jongup brought a piece of the fruit up to his lips, and he ate slowly, slumping against his lover in exhaustion. The messenger god ran his spare hand through Himchan’s hair as he fed him, finally smiling as Himchan hummed happily.

“I love you so much,” was all Jongup could say, his voice broken – and Junhong suddenly felt like he was witnessing a very intimate moment, one which he should not see. He averted his eyes as the two lovers kissed, but he could sense the relief in their affection.

“Let us leave them alone,” Yongnam said suddenly, and Yongguk looked at him in surprise.

The water god seemed much more mature than he did mere months ago, and when Yongguk looked at him, he could see his brother smiling sadly at the two on the floor. Neither Jongup nor Himchan protested, simply content in each other’s presence.

Yongnam looked up, back towards Junhong. “I actually have two people who would love to see you, nymph.”

Junhong’s eyes widened, and both brothers looked at him in amusement.

 

“ _JUNHONG!_ ”

“ _YOUNGJAE!_ ”

Yongguk beamed as he saw the two rush towards each other, embracing each other in the middle of the beach. From behind Youngjae, Daehyun emerged from the rock pool, watching the two best friends interact with the same affectionate expression.

“He is the mastermind behind Junhong’s resurrection,” Yongnam told Yongguk, and the Death God blinked. “He ordered me to retrieve Hyunwoo and teach Himchan how to heal Junhong from death.”

Yongguk’s lips quirked with a smile. That sounded like Youngjae as well – loyal to Junhong, even past death, and scarily intelligent.

Daehyun walked towards the two brothers, before he came to a stop. “I... I would like to thank the both of you. For returning Junhong...” He bit his lip, unsure of what else to say. He knew that Yongguk disliked him greatly, and Yongnam could not care for him – but he wanted to thank them for returning Youngjae’s happiness as well.

To his surprise, Yongguk simply rested a hand on the human’s shoulders, having forgiven him after all that had happened. “You must take care of Youngjae,” he said warmly, looking upon the two friends who had not yet released each other. Daehyun followed his gaze, smiling at the sight of his secret love being happy.

“I will,” he promised.

Tucked in Junhong’s embrace, Youngjae tilted his head when he heard Daehyun speak, but he was quickly distracted by Junhong. It had been a little over a week since they saw each other, but it definitely felt like too long. Their eyes were watery with unshed tears, and their smiles were as wide as their faces.

“So, are you two together yet?” Junhong whispered in his ear, and Youngjae blushed.

“No... but soon, hopefully,” he said shyly, his cheeks a dusty pink. Junhong cooed, and Youngjae looked down, “I think he likes me back, Junhong.”

“I _know_ he does,” the nymph laughed, looking up just in time to see Daehyun staring at the human, before his eyes flickered away. “He definitely does.”

Youngjae blushed yet again, eyes shyly meeting Daehyun’s. Junhong could barely contain his squeal – he felt so proud of Youngjae, who had grown up from an outcast in his town, to someone who had fallen in love with his childhood prince.

“You will be courted by a prince,” he said dreamily, already imagining their future. Youngjae had grown up so fast.

“And you have been courted by a god,” Youngjae teased him in return, and the both of them smiled brightly at each other, almost in disbelief. It had been a year since they had just been two best friends, separated by species, but now they were free to see each other whenever they wanted, and free to be with their respective lovers.

“It has been a long year,” Junhong said finally, eyes tearing up as he spoke what was on Youngjae’s mind.

“It has been a year’s worth of experiences, to say the least,” the human answered, head turned slightly to look at Daehyun, where he was standing with Yongguk and Yongnam. He turned back to Junhong, who hugged him tighter.

It may have been a long year full of trial, darkness and death, but it was also one of friendship, freedom and love. And throughout it all, they always had each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I do have an idea for an epilogue, but I'm not sure if I'll ever write it. I do really like how this ends, as it is, because Youngjae and Junhong are honestly my favourite relationship in this fic!
> 
> Keep an eye out for any other fics I might write, I definitely have a few lined up for banglo in the future :) Follow me on [tumblr](http://junhng.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/sproutjun)!
> 
> And here's a little collage of what I imagined each chapter to be like :) [(x)](https://78.media.tumblr.com/593081bb461aec82752f484ee1fb95b9/tumblr_p7bvtoedXt1vkfvibo1_1280.jpg)


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